Saves Nine
by abandonmentcomplex
Summary: Spike wants a different spell done in Lover's Walk and he doesn't get distracted. Time Travel. Up for adoption.
1. Chapter 1

This story is unfinished. Read with the knowledge that the final chapter will just be an outline of what I had planned. Anyone is welcome to finish it if they so wish, just give me (Megan) credit for my portion and ideas. This will be the first time I didn't finish a story that had an outline. It is sad I know but seriously I don't think I'll ever get back to this idea. Sorry. But at least I won't leave you hanging … you will know how I intended the story to go.

Title: Saves Nine

Author: Megan (so far)

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: BtVS

Pairing: Willow/Spike

Summary: Spike asks for a different spell to be cast in Lover's Walk and doesn't get distracted.

Warnings: Time travel, mild language, confusing dialects, you know mild stuff.

A/N: The title comes from the saying "A stitch in time, saves nine."

Willow sorted through the magic supplies that were in front of her along with the page from the spellbook Spike had given her. They were sitting in the old burnt out factory and Xander was out cold on the bed having been hit over the head with a microscope. Spike was demanding that Willow do a spell for him. They were going back in time with a specific goal. They were going to tell Drusilla and a just turned William to run from Angelus and never go to Sunnydale. Spike was sure that if he could get them to listen, it would ensure that he and Dru would live happily ever after.

The spell supplies were simple enough, there was some mint for travel and some senna for time and they needed to be mixed together and boiled into a potion that had to be drunk by the time travelers. There was a circle that needed to be drawn with blessed chalk and candles that needed to be lit. There was a Latin incantation that needed to be chanted and that was about it. Except for the fact that both of them needed to be touching the personal item of the person they wanted to go back in time to see.

Before she did the spell, Willow warned Spike of the little fine print on the spell that she got a chance to read before he was hurrying her along. "We can only do the spell once or it will kill us."

He didn't seem deterred. "Then you better get it right the first time."

"I'm not a real witch you know. This may not work the way you want it to." She didn't know much about time travel but the entire spell hinged on the ring they were using as a personal item and since she didn't know much about the ring she was afraid that they were going to end up in a different time than Spike wanted. Having no idea when the ring was made or where it was made she didn't know when or where they would show up in time if this worked at all.

"For your sake, you better pray it works out perfectly," he snarled in her ear.

Willow went to work mixing the potion first, stealing glances at Spike and Xander as she did so. Spike was pacing and Xander still hadn't moved. Once the potion was mixed she made a circle counterclockwise on the ground with the chalk. "You need to be in the circle too," she told Spike. "And I need the ring."

Spike stepped into the circle and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He grabbed her left hand and shoved it on her ring finger. "Don't lose it," he said through gritted teeth.

The ring was simple, it was a silver band with a repetitive design on it. She held up the beaker of potion. "We each need to drink half this."

He sneered at her. "Ladies first."

Finding the point that would be half and marking it with her finger, Willow began to drink the foul tasting mixture. The mint was not enough to overpower the taste of senna. When she brought the beaker back down she was just shy of the halfway point, so she took another sip to get her there. She coughed at how bad the potion tasted and handed the rested of the potion to Spike. He drank it down in a few swallows and threw the beaker behind him, the glass breaking on the cement floor.

Holding her shaking hand out to him, Willow really hoped that everything went according to plan and that she got out of this alive. "You need to be touching the ring, too."

Spike laced his fingers through hers. "Let's do this."

Willow took a couple calming breaths and then read the Latin incantation off the page, never truly believing that it was going to work, but as soon as the last word was spoken, her and Spike were no longer in the factory.

They were outside in the sun and Spike was freaking out. "Oy!" He was trying to hide under his coat and find somewhere to go, but they were in a wide open field. He was running full tilt for the barn at the far end of the pasture. Not knowing what else to do Willow followed him, waiting for him to notice that he was i_not/i_ bursting into flames. She looked over the page with the spell as she walked and deciphered some more of the fine print of the spell. While the spell was in effect neither she nor Spike could be killed. Nice to know.

"Since this doesn't look like London, it's really good that he can't kill me," she sighed to herself as she folded the page and stuffed it in her pocket.

When Spike was about halfway to the barn, he came to an abrupt halt, let his coat fall to his shoulders, and he looked at the sun. "Wooo hooo!"

He looked so thrilled that Willow hoped that he wouldn't be mad that the spell had screwed up and taken them somewhere other than where Spike wanted to be. She didn't get a chance to find out because a man wearing really old-fashioned clothes was riding up to them on horseback. He looked the two of them over suspiciously.

"And what, may I ask, are the two o' you doing in me field?" His Irish accent was thick. His build was stocky and his hair was a light shade of orange that bordered on blonde.

Willow didn't know what to say to him, but Spike had no such troubles. "We're sorry, sir. My wife and I were accosted by thieves and we just woke up in your field. We are just happy to be alive."

The man was still eying them with suspicion. Willow assumed that it had a lot to do with the clothes. She herself was wearing jeans and she doubted that this man had ever seen a woman in anything other than a dress. She thought of the only story she could to cover for the clothes she was wearing and for possibly Spike's clothes as well. "Sir, they took everything we owned including our clothes and only left us with these strange garments to wear."

Looking horrified, the man changed his tone. "That musta been a horrible thing indeed for a lady to go through. These men had no shame." He climbed down off his horse and held his hand out to Spike. "My name is Arlen Bell."

Spike shook his hand. "I'm William Jones and this is Willow. We just got in from port and now have no idea where we are. Would you mind enlightening us?"

"These be the outskirts of Galway," Arlen said.

The look that Spike gave her was subtle, but it chilled her. He wasn't happy. And they were far away from their intended goal. From what little she could remember from the Watchers' Diaries, she knew that Galway Ireland was the human home of Angel. With this fact in the mix, Willow assumed that they were not only physically far away from their goal, but very far away according to timing as well. Angel was turned into a vampire in 1750 something and Spike didn't get turned into a vampire until 1880. If the ring were somehow attached to Angel then it was entirely possible they had gone back in time much farther than they had intended. And if they were in Galway then that seemed likely.

Willow swallowed.

Spike turned back to Arlen. "There would not be anyplace that would take in stranded travelers, would there?"

Arlen stroked his chin. "Not that I know of. If you don't mind hard work I'll let you stay in me barn."

Piping up before Spike could do or say anything, Willow said, "Thank you, sir, that's very kind of you." She grabbed Spike's hand and pulled him away from Arlen. "Behave. We need to figure out a way to blend in around here. And you can't kill anyone or it could severely alter history. Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?"

To her amazement Spike nodded his head. "I've heard of it. But what the bloody hell am I going to do for food?"

Thinking about it for a second, Willow got an idea. It wasn't a pleasant idea but it was the only idea she thought Spike would agree to. "I've got it covered. Don't worry about it. Let's just take this nice man's offer and figure out what to do next. We need to get home."

Spike squeezed her hand to the point of pain. "We aren't going anywhere until I get my way."

Willow winced at the pain. "Then we're going to need clothes and a plan. A careful plan. We can't make any waves. We can't alter anything." She was worried that she was going to be a little old woman before she got back to Sunnydale. Not wanting to be a walking mummy, she was going to make it her goal to change Spike's mind. He had the second half of the spell, the half that would get them home.

XxXx

Arlen immediately put Spike to work as a stable hand. It was Spike's job to look after the horses and oxen that were used to tend the barley fields. Willow was to help Arlen's wife with the laundry. Spike had never taken care of an animal in his entire existence and needed a lot of instruction from Arlen's other stable hand, Ian, who seemed to be getting a kick out watching someone else do his job. Spike's guess was that Ian assumed that Spike had been wealthy before their run in with thieves. Not wanting to give the man anything else to laugh at, Spike did his work without complaint and to the best of his ability hoping that as soon as night fell he could just rob some people and get Willow and himself out of here.

Willow was in the barn waiting for him when he was done with his work. She was sitting in the loft feet dangling over the side reading over the page with the first half of the spell on it like it would unveil some great mystery.

"I hate to tell you this, but the only way you are getting home is through me." He climbed up to the loft. "That piece of paper is useless now. You said we could only do the spell once so we don't need that anymore. I have the only copy of the second half of the spell, so I don't know why you're bothering with that."

She folded the piece of paper and put it in her pocket. "I was just reading some of the fine print of the spell. I didn't get a chance before we left and I thought it might be important."

"And?"

"Did you read this before you had me do the spell?" she asked.

"Just enough to get the ingredients from Uncle Bob's." He shrugged and sat next to her. "Is there something bad?"

"Spike, the spell... _both_ parts of the spell are linked to the object. As far as I can tell the reason we aren't where you wanted us to be is because we're in the general time and place where the ring was created."

"So what? I figure we wait it out and once I'm made into a vampire we'll do the second half of the spell then." He didn't see what the big deal was. He would turn her into a vampire so she didn't age and they would wait it out. Not a hardship as far as he could tell.

Willow groaned. "I said _both_ parts of the spell. The second half of the spell doesn't take you back to the time you left. It takes you to the time the object stops existing. This is a silver ring, Spike, what do you think it's shelf life is? For all we know the object doesn't stop existing until the world dies. And to top it off... we cannot intercede in the object's life in any way. We can't even tell someone else to destroy it."

Spike didn't have much to think about with that. The goal just changed a little. "Then I'll just turn Drusilla into a vampire myself and whisk her away before Angelus can get to her. That simple."

Since he wasn't expecting it and she was quick about it, Spike didn't have a chance to stop her from cutting his hand with what looked like a kitchen knife. The wound closed up in a matter of seconds. He was left gawking at it. "How?"

"Because we're part of the spell, we are, and I quote, unchanging. I got burnt with boiling water this afternoon and the burn was gone before I could even scream in pain. I've cut myself a dozen times or more and while it hurts, it doesn't even scar. And I can't even bite my nails. They are like diamond strong now." For effect she tried to bite one of her nails and she showed him that it had no effect on the nail itself. "I think this means that I won't age for as long as I'm under the effects of the spell. And I already figured out that we can't die. Example... you in the sun today. But the bad news is that we're stuck with each other for the next couple hundred years."

"How do you figure? I don't need you anymore. I needed a witch to do the second half of the spell but since that is out of the question, what the hell do I need you for?" he asked.

"To feed," she answered simply. "Unless you want to seriously screw with the history of the world, I'm your one and only food source until we hit 1998. You can't kill me, so it's the perfect solution. Feed off me until we get back to our own time. After that we'll part company."

He looked at the way her chin was jutted forward and he knew she meant it. She was sacrificing herself for others... for the sake of history. He could also tell that she didn't think she was going to like it at all. He was going to just have to show her that pain could be pleasurable. It may take a little bit of training but he had time to kill before Drusilla was even born.

Drusilla... there was a problem. If he couldn't make her into a vampire he was either going to have to wait for Angelus or find another vampire to do it for him. He looked at Willow. She was supposed to be the smart one of Buffy's group. He wondered what she had to say about it.

"What do you think I should do? Should I wait for Angelus to turn Drusilla or should I find another vampire to do it for me before he gets there?"

Willow sighed. "I don't think we should be messing with history at all, but if you're telling me that the decision is mine then I say we let the events unfold as close as we can to how they happened the first time. But if you do anything and I mean anything that causes something catastrophic like the Nazis winning World War II or the start of World War III I swear I will find a way to make you pay Spike. Do you understand me?"

"Got it, Red." He chuckled and swung an arm around her. "I'm starting to feel a little bit peckish, luv."

She stiffened under his arm. "We should probably go farther back into the loft for this. We don't want to get caught. Emma, Arlen's wife, said she'd come out and check on us later."

Spike smoothly got to his feet and offered Willow a hand up. She didn't accept it. They walked back into the hay and found a dark corner. Pulling back her hair, she offered her neck up to him without complaint. He drew her up into his arms, let the demon come forth, and bit into her.

Willow gasped and Spike groaned. She tasted amazing, pure and magic filled. There was no blood that he had ever drank that was more exquisite. He almost felt like he could get drunk off her alone. He drew her blood out in long sips and decided to check and see if she would really survive being completely drained. He drank every drop he could get out of her.

Her heart stopped beating and she seemed to have passed out cold, but she was still breathing oddly enough so he assumed that she was going to be fine. He lay her down in the hay.

He barely had her down when a gruff but female voice called through the barn. "Willow? I think I may have found you a dress. I also have a shift for you and an old corset."

Spike hurried down the ladder to the main part of the barn. "You must be Mrs. Bell."

"And you must be Willow's husband William," she said. "Where is Willow?" Emma Bell was what Spike would call handsome. She wasn't quite pretty but she had a quality about her that was still attractive with her coal hair and dark eyes.

"She is in the loft sleeping. I would hate to disturb her. She has had a rough couple of days." He motioned absently.

"The way I see it the two of you are not used to doing manual labor, though to both your credits you have not shied away from it." She held out the dress and underclothes. "Make sure she gets those. I want to see her dressed properly tomorrow. It might not be fancy but it should fit her well enough."

He took the garments off the woman and smiled. "She'll be grateful to be in a dress again. You are too kind."

"It was just going to rot. These things haven't fit me in years. And I did not have any daughters to hand them down to."

Still smiling, Spike tucked the clothing under his arm. "Still, thank you."

"Sleep well, we will see you in the morning." And with that Mrs. Bell left the barn.

Spike climbed back up to the loft, set the clothing aside, and curled up around Willow. Her heart was beating again, and she had turned into a more comfortable position, but she hadn't woken up. He wanted to know when she did wake up, but he also wanted to sleep before being put to work again the next day. He was asleep in no time, comfortably wrapped around a warm body.


	2. Chapter 2

Willow couldn't believe that women wore these things. When Spike was helping her lace up her corset this morning she had to remind him that she needed to breathe. And he reminded her that she needed to fit into the dress. When she saw the waist of it, she didn't blink for about thirty seconds. Nobody's waist was that tiny. Willow knew that she was small but not even she could have hoped to fit into the dress without some help. So the corset got laced and she was now wishing that Spike had never been born. It was all his fault that she was stuck back in time and had to wear the damn thing in the first place. So all day through her chores she was cursing his name.

She had never been afraid of doing her chores in Sunnydale. As an only child most of the household chores fell on her to do over the years as her parents were really busy working all the time. They left early in the morning and arrived home late every night. She cooked, she cleaned, she did the laundry, and she even did a good bit of the grocery shopping. But none of that compared to what she had to do now. This was backbreaking labor and there was never an end to it. Yesterday they had done all the laundry in the house and seeing as to how the Bells were well off it wasn't a small house. They did all the linens and clothes. Boiling pot after pot of water and soaking the clothes and then rubbing the material against washing boards with soap and then rinsing them all off, wringing them out and hanging them up to dry. It took all afternoon. It was no wonder that from what she gathered this wasn't a chore they did all that often. She wasn't offered dinner so when morning rolled around she was starving.

When she entered the main house, she realized that the men weren't up yet. On the kitchen table were mounds of potatoes. Mrs. Bell came in and ordered her to start peeling. Willow had peeled potatoes before but she had always used a vegetable peeler, what sat before her now was a small dull looking knife. She sat down and did her best to peel the first potato. It was awkward and slow but she was managing.

"The dress fits you well. You'll have to do something about those shoes at some point, but at least you aren't wearing clothes meant for the menfolk anymore," Emma said as she began to peel a potato with much more speed and precision. Willow tried to follow her hand movements and mimic them.

Willow's back already hurt from being in a corset so she just nodded, smiled, and said, "Thank you so much for sparing it for me."

"It was the Christian thing to do. I should see if I have any extra hair pins. It isn't right for your hair to be down." She was already halfway through her second potato while Willow was still working on her first.

"My hair is so short I don't know if I'd be able to get it to stay up. Yours looks so nice. Mine would never look like that." Willow was trying to be as complimentary as possible. She did think that Emma's hair looked nice, but she had no real desire for her hair to be pulled back in the same fashion. But she reminded herself that that didn't matter now. She was going to have to do what she could to fit in. If that meant finding a way to pull her hair back, she'd do it.

Thoughts of 1998 threatened but Willow suppressed them. She knew that at some point she was going to think about all and everyone she had lost and she knew when that happened she wouldn't be able to stop herself from crying. She couldn't allow tears right now. There was too much to do. In these times people expected a lot for little payment. She knew that if she expected to have a roof over her head then she was going to have to continue working around the house. So she concentrated everything she had on peeling potatoes.

When they were finally done peeling potatoes it was time to cook them. While this kitchen was furnished with an oven, she learned that they were lucky to have it. Most of the cooking was done over the fire. Willow was completely out of her depth. She was relieved when Emma started the fire while she went out to fetch water from the well right outside the kitchen.

Breakfast was pounds of boiled potatoes and lots of milk. Willow couldn't eat all of hers and was relieved when Spike finished off her portion.

"You'll be hungry again before long with the way you eat," Mrs. Bell said as they cleaned the kitchen.

"I'm not used to eating so much at once. I'm used to eating a few small meals a day. Unless it's pizza, I can eat a whole pizza by myself if I don't watch it." Willow had to stop herself from slapping a hand over her mouth for forgetting where and when she was.

"What's pizza?" Emma asked.

"It's a food they make in Italy. It's round, flat bread, with tomato sauce and cheese and herbs. It's really good." She was going to miss pizza. And chocolate. And peanut butter. And everything. If there was anything she knew about the Irish it was that they ate a lot of potatoes. She had a feeling she was going to hate potatoes before very long. And when it came time to prepare lunch she knew she was right. More potatoes.

XxXx

The work wasn't hard once Spike knew what he was doing. It didn't tire him out or anything being that he was a vampire. It was just he had to be told how to do everything and that grated his nerves. Every time Ian corrected him, he wanted to rip the man's throat out. But he knew if he did that it would, if nothing else, piss off the witch. And he believed, that if he did anything she disapproved of she would find a way to make him pay for it. She might not be able to kill him but that didn't mean she couldn't hurt him. And she was a witch. There was no telling what she might eventually be able to pull off. But there was a more immediate reason not to piss her off. She was a hot running tap of the best blood he ever tasted and she was a willing victim. He'd be a lunatic to pass that up.

He saw her at breakfast and again at lunch. He had no desire to eat the food, but it would be suspicious if he didn't so he ate it without complaint. Before he went back to work after lunch he pulled Willow aside. "We need to talk about how long we're going to continue doing this."

She gave him the most curious look. "What do you mean? We have to keep this up until we find a way to leave town. You need to talk to Arlen about what we have to do to earn money."

"If money is all we need. I can get us money in a few hours and we can be on our way."

Her eyes went wide. "You are not robbing anyone!" she whisper-yelled. "I don't want to know what the effects of a vampire robbing someone would be. People would believe that story in these times. It wouldn't get blown off as superstitious nonsense."

"I wouldn't have to leave a witness, pet."

"History, Spike. It could alter history. And I doubt you care about penicillin being invented, but I doubt even you would want the Nazis to win World War II." Her arms were akimbo now and she was glaring at him.

"Ack, German, such an ugly language. I wouldn't want to have to learn it." He didn't care much about the Nazis.

"What if what you did made it so that Drusilla was never born?" she asked looking smug and rightfully so. She had him by the balls.

"Fine we'll do this your way, but just remember that this was your idea. I don't think that robbery without hurting anyone would really change anything. I could use a knife you know. How are you holding up with all the work?" he asked trying one last time to make a case for himself.

"I'm fine. And I better get back in there before Mrs. Bell starts to think I'm blowing her off." With that the redhead flounced back into the house, looking beyond cute in the green dress and red sneakers. He thought if working in the corset didn't change her mind then when she finally got shoes that went with the dress, she might change her tune.

He went back to chopping wood. At least chopping wood was a little cathartic. It helped him get some of his aggravations out about the fact another one of his plans had gotten royally screwed up. He probably should've waited until he was sober to make this plan. And he should have read the fine print on the spell. He was feeling really stupid and if he couldn't be out there killing people to get over it then cutting wood wasn't that bad of a replacement. Once he got the right motion down he was making Ian look like an amateur and that made him feel better too. He was beginning to really hate Ian.

Once that was done. The animals were in from working in the fields and it was time to rub them down.

Dinner wasn't even offered to him or Willow, though he knew that Willow helped cook the meal. He caught a glimpse of her in the kitchen when he went with Ian to get a drink of water from the well. Dinner smelled like mutton and surprise surprise... potatoes.

When Willow came out to the barn for the night, he could tell she was in something of a state. She was walking with her back perfectly straight, her chin held high, but her eyes were starting to tear up.

"What's wrong?" he asked irritated that she would be so whiney.

"Leave me alone, this is all your fault." She climbed up to the loft.

Not even he could argue with the fact that this was his fault. He sat at the bottom of the stairs and listened to her cry. After about ten minutes he heard her start to curse.

"Damn it. I hate this thing. Stupid piece of crap makes it impossible to even get undressed alone."

He knew she was doing battle with her corset. "I can come up and help if you want."

"Fine," she growled.

He was up the ladder in a trice. She was standing in the corner with the dress hanging over a railing. She had gotten the laces untied but was having trouble loosening them enough to get the garment off. He helped her out and she wiggled out of the thing and set it off to the side.

"Mid-evil torture device." She tucked her shift under her and sat on the old, rather soft hay. It wasn't the fresh stiff kind that poked you every time you moved.

"Do you need to eat every night?" she asked, crying silent tears.

"I get hungry every night," was the answer he gave her. He didn't want to skip a night if he could avoid it.

"Then can we get it over with? I want to sleep." She brushed her tears away and faced him, but still refused to look at him.

He took her in his arms again, her soft warm body pressed against him, and he drank from her. He paid attention to exact moment she went limp in his arms and the exact moment her heart stopped beating. This was bliss.

Laying her down, he curled up next to her again. He watched her until her heart started to beat again and then he lay his own head down on the pillow of his coat. Tonight though she woke up before he fell asleep. She was crying again. He could hear it in her breathing.

"The worst part is... I understand why you did what you did. Love makes people do wacky things."

He expected her to scoot away from him and throw his arm from the position it was in, casually draped over her. But she didn't. She turned onto her side and fell asleep. He figured she had to be exhausted from a hard day of working.

XxXx

In the next week Willow mostly got used to the corset. It was the shoes she was having a hard time with now. Emma knew that her friend Mary had feet about the size of Willow's and asked the woman if she had any shoes she could spare. The woman had a pair of shoes that she wasn't happy with because they didn't have much of a heel. Mary from what Willow could tell from her one meeting with the woman was richer than Emma, but kind. The shoes were a little big on Willow but Willow didn't complain. She was grateful that these women were helping her at all. The shoes however were stiff leather and they chaffed. She knew that if it weren't for her new healing capabilities her feet would be covered in blisters. Still her feet were terribly sore and she missed her sneakers with every step.

She did tell Mary Young that if there was anything she could ever do for her in return for the shoes, to just ask. So it wasn't a huge surprise to see Mary again today. A day when Emma's normal household help returned to work after having been sick for a week and Willow was no longer all that needed around the house.

"Ah, young Mrs. Jones. Just the woman I was looking for. I think I may have found something that will help your scenario," Mrs. Young said as she walked up the drive. She was an older woman by this time's standard and her blonde hair had some gray in it.

"It's good to see you," Willow responded putting down her cup of water and walking to greet the woman. "How have you been?"

"I've been fairing well. But I had to come see you today because I had the most interesting conversation with Mrs. Walker last night." Mary leaned into Willow like she was talking conspiratorially. "It turns out that the woman she had watching her children was caught stealing from them and they are now looking for a new nanny. I immediately thought of you, since you and your husband need the money. I already put in a good word for you since Emma thinks highly of you. I know that Chloe is due back anytime now and Emma won't be needing the help around the house. So this seems perfect."

"Chloe came back today," Willow informed. "I'm so thankful you thought of me. How should I go about this? Do I go and talk to Mrs. Walker?"

She gave Willow a strange look. "You should have your William talk to Mr. Walker. They'll discuss all the details. They paid the Brown girl 2 shillings a week. Make sure that your William accepts no less. I don't want you to get cheated and Richard Walker is a right cheap one he is."

Willow nodded and remembered her history. While the women seemed to make the deals in reality, the men still had to make it official.

"You wouldn't by chance know how to read would you?" Mrs. Young asked.

"I can read very well, actually. I started learning when I was three." Willow hoped this helped her chances with getting this job.

"Oh delightful. You should have your William mention that to Richard and ask for a shilling more a week. They've been trying to teach the children themselves but it would be so much easier on them if you could do the lessons with the children." Mary seemed very happy with herself. "This should work out nicely."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Young. I appreciate everything you're doing for me. When we were robbed we lost everything and we thought for sure we were doomed. But between the Bells and you I really feel we have a fighting chance to get back on our feet."

"Please call me Mary. And I'm happy to help. I just can't believe you have no family that you can call on to help you out in your time of need." Mary put a hand to her heart.

"Well my husband was the last of his family. His mother died in childbirth and his father died a couple of years ago. He has no brother's or sisters. And my sister won't even take my letters anymore. She's still upset that William didn't pick her even though she didn't even like him. And my parents were killed by robbers when I was little." Willow was reciting the story that her and Spike had made up to explain what happened to their families.

"Did your William have a hard time choosing between you and your sister?" Mary seemed very interested in this bit of gossip.

"No. Lily just assumes that everyone will fall at her feet. She's very beautiful. But my William wanted me because I'm better at holding a conversation." Willow said weaving a little bit of a tale. She'd have to make sure to tell Spike about it later.

Mary sighed. "He wanted a true companion. That's very rare. And you got to marry for love. I got married because that was what was expected of me. It took a while for me and my Conor to even become friends."

Willow put a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you seem happy now."

Mrs. Young smiled at Willow. "Conor takes very good care of me. There isn't anything I could want for. And we've grown quite fond of each other over the years. Though we are known to have our quarrels from time to time. I would say I couldn't want more from life." Her eyes lit up. "If your William is going to talk to Richard Walker he might want to take a bath before he does so. You are both welcome to come and bathe at my house before having such a meeting. Speaking of which. You should go with your William when he meets with Richard so you can show him your reading skills. I'll even lend you a book to take with you."

"Oh, Mary," Willow gushed. "How can I ever repay you?"

"You can keep me company every once in a while. Perhaps on Sundays after church you could spend a couple hours with me. Now we really must figure out what we are going to do about your hair. If Emma can spare you, I think I'll steal you away now and we'll work on it at my house."

That was how Willow ended up with a job at the Walker house taking care of their three young children. Her first day there was Monday. Sitting between her and her first day of work at the Walker's was something that worried her.

Church.


	3. Chapter 3

Spike and Willow had talked about this on Saturday night. They were going to go to the church services with the Bells because they figured they would be expected to go. The Bells, the Youngs, and the Walkers were all Anglo-Irish and thereby Protestant and Spike and Willow figured they should probably appear Protestant as well.

So they got up early, got cleaned up as best they could with a bucket of well water and some soap he nicked from the house. He considered it a good thing that Willow didn't get on his case about the stolen soap. Since she was talentless at getting her hair pulled back, he did it for her, showing her a skill he had picked up because of Drusilla. Since she couldn't see herself in a mirror it was his job to keep her hair styled in the pretty fashions she liked. It took some pulling but he got Willow's short locks into something that resembled a bun. It just took every single last pin that Mary Young had given Willow to do it. He also had to tie her up in her corset. This was becoming a morning routine for them.

He would have still been wearing his clothes from 1998 except that Arlen had given him a little bit of money yesterday and told him to go get some clothes. It was enough for one outfit and Spike was going to keep it as his Sunday clothes and work in his modern clothes during the week. He also didn't like the idea of having to wear these clothes more than he had to. The pantaloons alone were enough to make him want to gag. Whatever made men think these were fashionable? And now he was getting a taste of what Willow talked about with the shoes. He had forgotten how uncomfortable shoes used to be.

"Bloody Indians had it right with moccasins," he muttered to Willow as he took his first few steps in his new shoes.

Willow giggled. "Tell me about it. Why couldn't your item have been an Indian bead? The clothes alone would have been more comfortable."

He chuckled. "I'm sure you would have loved being scalped by Indians, pet."

"I think with our healing powers and you being able to move so fast, we would have been worshiped as gods if we played our cards right," she said buttoning the last of the many buttons on her dress.

"The language barrier would have been a real treat," he pointed out.

"We would have learned," she insisted. "Now church. I'm Jewish... I have no idea what to do in church."

He waved her off. "When I was human and went to church we just sat there and tried not to fall asleep while the pastor talked."

"Good, so long as it won't be too difficult."

It was a rare moment of them getting along.

People were staring at them when they got to the church. He figured it had to do with his hair. For these times he knew it stood out. It was too short and the color was something that wasn't even remotely natural looking so he was sure that people couldn't help but stare.

The singing was a little bit of a problem. There were no hymnals and neither he nor Willow knew any of the songs so they stood there and listened. It was a little awkward and the Bells looked at them a little strangely at those times. They expected them to know the songs. And they really expected them to know the prayers. Spike and Willow mumbled incoherently during those so it appeared that they knew them.

After the services, Willow and Spike were dragged to meet the pastor, a young man with curly black hair and a thick London accent. He knew both of them before they were even introduced.

"You must be the Jones couple I've heard about, William and Willow," said the pastor with his hand outstretched to Spike. "I'm Pastor Gregory."

Spike shook his hand and avoided looking at his cross. "Nice to meet you. Lovely services." He hadn't really been paying attention but it seemed like the thing to say.

"Thank you. I was so sorry to hear about your circumstances. These must be very trying times for you."

"We'll get through," Spike said. He didn't like the pity in the man's voice. It made Spike want to rip his jugular out, but he had his pocket conscience on his arm and knew he couldn't do it.

_Damn this all to hell._

XxXx

Willow showed up for her first day of work at the Walker house bright and early and prepared to work. She planned on being very patient with the children and putting everything she learned about dealing with even the most difficult child to task. For two full years she babysat the Miles twins. She was twelve when she started that job and she only stopped doing it because her parents felt that she should be paying closer attention to her studies. She figured if she could get Jeremy to eat broccoli and Shane to stand under a shower and use soap, she could do anything. She felt fully capable of the task in front of her. All it would take was getting to know the children.

And the first half of the day was relatively easy. It was keeping three-year-old Evan from dying while teaching six-year-old Alice to read with marked moments of having to soothe seven-month-old Grace.

But then the world came crashing down around her when a familiar face walked into the kitchen while she was feeding the children lunch.

Angel.

Or rather, the human Liam walked in. He looked exactly like he did in her time with the exception of the hair. She made it a point not to stare at him though it was hard. It was so strange to see him in the stream of daylight pouring in through the window. He looked hung over.

She was having a hard time getting Evan to eat his lunch. As it turned out, Evan didn't like potatoes and this was a problem because _everything_ was made with potatoes in Ireland at this time. Willow was already really sick of potatoes and felt bad for having to force the poor kid to eat them.

"If you promise to tell him a story later, you might have a better chance getting him to eat," Liam said casually, as he served himself a plateful of food.

"Story!" Evan exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes, Evan, I'll tell you a story if you eat everything on your plate." Willow looked over at Liam. "Thank you. I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"Anything I can do for a pretty lady," he smiled at her lasciviously. "I'm Liam."

"Willow, it's nice to meet you." She now concentrated on feeding Grace her mashed up potatoes.

"Are you married, Willow?"

"As a matter of fact, I am." Willow spooned food into the baby's mouth.

"Then I'll just have to work extra hard to win you away from your husband." He finally started eating his food.

All afternoon, Liam bothered her with empty compliments and stared at her while she tried to deal with the children and ignore him. She just wanted to get back to Spike and discuss this new wrinkle in their lives. Worried that she was already altering history just by meeting the man that was going to become Angel, her nerves were on edge until Liam left to go out for the evening.

It was at the tail end of sunset when Spike showed up to walk her back to the Bell farm. It wouldn't have been proper for her to have been walking so late by herself.

As soon as they were a safe distance away from the Walker house Willow whispered to Spike. "This is Angel's house. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't quit. Mary would never recommend me for another job again. She might even make it hard for me to get a job. But I could be messing with history here. This is a complete disaster."

Spike put an arm around her shoulders. "We could always go with my plan. It would be the quickest way out of town. We rob a couple of people, steal a horse and we're gone."

Willow considered her options. She didn't like any of them, but the one that sounded least offensive was the one where she just continued to work and then headed off Angel in the future and told him that the Willow he was going to meet wasn't really her. It seemed like a good plan. She didn't think it would alter the timeline all that much, so her mind was made up. "No robbing people. I'll just stick it out and deal with Liam and then when we get close to 1997 we'll just hunt Angel down and tell him what's up, so things don't get spaztastic."

"His name is Liam?" Spike laughed. "I never knew."

"What's so funny?" Willow asked lost as to the humor of a name.

"We're both Williams." Spike barely got the words out for laughing so hard.

She didn't understand why Spike found this as funny as he did. It was only slightly amusing. But his laughter was contagious and soon she was laughing too.

XxXx

Over the next few months, Willow had hoped that Liam's attentions would wane, but she was sorely mistaken. The longer she resisted him, the harder he tried.

At the moment she was giving little one-year-old Grace a bath and he was staring at her with lust in his eyes. Willow simply focused on her task and ignored him. Grace needed a bath almost daily because she made such a mess when she ate. Alice tried to help get the food into Grace without it becoming part of her clothes, but had no luck. (It was Alice's way of avoiding eating foods she didn't like.) This was while Willow was trying to convince Evan to eat anything at all, because even bribing him with promises of stories didn't always work.

"I'd love to give _you_ a bath," Liam said in a voice sticky like honey.

"It's late. Aren't you going to go out tonight?" Willow asked icily.

"Why would I want to go out, when I have such a lovely view right here?"

She ignored him and took little Grace out of the bath and wrapped her in a towel.

"Wi-o!" Grace exclaimed. It was as close as she could get to saying Willow's name. She looked at her older brother and giggled, "Ee," at him.

Willow patted the little girl dry and while she was doing that, Liam stole one of her hairpins.

"Stop that."

"No." He stole another and then another until her hair fell out of the once careful, tight, and small bun it had been in. "You'll have to explain to me what happened to your hair. It's so dreadfully short."

Seeing an opening to shut him up, Willow said, "My husband likes it this way. Now can I have my pins back please?" She held her hand out to him while in the other arm she held his little sister.

With a smile meant to charm her, he put the pins in her hand, making sure that his fingers lingered on her palm. She put the pins in her pocket and then went about getting Grace dressed. Once Grace was placed securely in her crib, Willow did her best at trying to pin her hair back up. Usually, Spike did this for her in the morning. She had no talent for using these infernal hairpins.

It was almost time for her to go home, she was just waiting for Spike to come and get her like he normally did. When he showed up she could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong.

"Willow, sweetie, I have to go back the Hughes, but I have an errand for you to run," Spike said loud enough for Liam to hear but then he drew her close and whispered in her ear. "Darla's in town, we almost missed her. She's due to leave tomorrow so if she's going to turn Liam here she has to do it tonight. At the moment she's in Kieran's Inn."

This alarmed Willow. She didn't realize they were that close to when Liam got turned. Nor did she realize that by being here she had interfered that greatly in the timeline. Hopefully they hadn't missed their window. Willow was the one touting the line that they couldn't kill or save anyone because it could severely alter history. The last thing she wanted was to return to the future and find a nuclear winter or that penicillin never got invented. It would pain her since she had gotten close with people destined to die, but that was how it had to be.

Spike handed her an envelope and kissed her on the forehead before leaving. She looked at the envelope and saw that it was addressed to the Nolans. That would take her to right next to Kieran's Inn.

"Liam, I have to go all the way to the Nolan's. Would you mind escorting me?" she asked demurely.

It was evident that this request surprised Liam, but then he smiled. "Of course, Willow. I'd be happy to escort you to the Nolan's."

The walk to the Nolan's house was uneventful. Liam seemed smug to have Willow on his arm, but for a switch made few comments. He compared her to the beautiful night, but was about as sincere as a used cars salesman.

After she dropped the letter off at the Nolan's, Willow made a point of commenting, "I'm parched."

Liam smiled a greasy smile, and outstretched an arm toward the inn. "Kieran's is right here. I'd be happy to buy you something to drink."

"Thank you, Liam, that's very kind of you," Willow said heading for the door of the inn that doubled as a tavern.

It was mostly men inside the tavern. The women that were there were just the two bar wenches that served the customers and Darla sitting off to the side by herself watching everything. Willow was astounded by her beauty. There was no doubt that when Liam saw her, he would forget completely about Willow, of that Willow was certain. The place was loud with men shouting and singing to the minstrels that were playing in the corner.

Liam guided her to sit at a table and he ordered wine for her and ale for himself when the voluptuous wench came to take their order. He gave the matron a grin and told her, "There will be something special for ya if ya hurry." And he winked at her.

This would have been rude behavior in 1998, but for these times it was scandalous. But then it was rather scandalous for a married woman to be sitting in a tavern with another man. Only Willow and Spike were aware of the fact that they weren't really married everyone else in town thought that they were the nice but strange couple from America.

While they drank, Liam was going on about how he was the oldest and he was going to inherit everything from his father. All the land and the business, like this would impress Willow.

Willow however knew she needed to figure out a way to get his attentions off of her and onto Darla, so she smiled and said, "But if you don't help with the business now, you won't know how to run it when he dies and it would no doubt whither and die under you as a result."

Liam frowned. "And what would a woman know about running a business?"

"More than a man who puts no effort into it," she shot back. She was about to point out Darla when Spike entered the tavern.

"I expected you straight home!" He grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her away. "What do you think you're doing here with him?"

Willow reacted like any girl from 1998 would. She pulled herself out of Spike's grasp and yelled at him. "What do you think you're doing grabbing me like that?"

Spike backhanded her across the cheek and then grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her out of the tavern. "You don't talk to me like that!"

She was sure that he had broken her cheekbone and her eye felt like it was going to explode out of her head. "Let me go!" It felt like he was going to rip her hair right out of her head.

Once outside and a fair distance from the door. Spike let her go.

"What the hell?" she shouted at him.

"Would you keep your voice down," he seethed. "Have you forgotten what time we're living in? I'm your bloody husband according to everyone here. If I had acted any different it would have been suspicious."

All the anger Willow was feeling a minute ago vanished. "Sorry, I just reacted."

"I can tell."

"How are we going to know if Liam gets turned?" Willow asked.

"We could watch," Spike suggested.

She shuddered at the thought. "I don't think I want to do that."

"Then go back to the barn, and I'll watch," Spike reasoned.

"Fine."

And that's what she did.


	4. Chapter 4

Spike and Willow attended Liam's funeral and wake. Willow was expected to look after the small children and Spike stuck close to Willow as she got overrun with more and more children as more people came to the wake. Spike of course wanted to eat the children, but was of course forbidden. He was also forbidden from telling them scary stories and in the end ruining all his fun. He helped herd all the brats into the house where Willow did her best to keep them all entertained and in line. Rachael, the oldest of the Walker daughters who was married and living across town now decided to help out after a while. It was the middle of the night when they got to leave the Walker house. And Spike had a hard time getting Willow out of there.

"I should warn them," she protested. "Someone's going to let him in and he's going to kill them all."

"If I can't kill because it would alter history, then you can't save people for the same reason." He purposely left out the part where according to everything he had heard, Angelus slaughtered the whole town. Somehow he doubted that she could let that happen even with her determination to not change history. "Remember the butterfly effect."

Tears were threatening to fall from her big green eyes, but she sniffed, nodded, and sucked the tears back. "Right, the butterfly effect. We can't change anything. You should probably tell them that I'm sick or something so they won't expect me in tomorrow."

Spike squeezed her shoulder and went to talk to Richard Walker.

The man was standing next to the fire with a drink in his hand. Spike hoped that he wasn't so drunk that he wasn't going to remember this conversation in the morning. "Mr. Walker."

Richard looked over at Spike, and even if Spike hadn't known that the man's oldest son just died, he would have picked up on the fact that this man was easy prey right now. But he shoved that thought to the side, like he had to with all his predatory thoughts these days. It was just a little harder at the moment because he was hungry. He hadn't fed yet this evening.

"Yes, William?"

"I wanted to say again how sorry I am for your loss."

"Thank you."

Spike gestured toward the door. "Willow isn't feeling well and I fear she may not be able to come in tomorrow. I know she didn't have a thing to drink, so it isn't that. I'm not sure what's wrong with her exactly."

"It would be better if she came in tomorrow my wife's grief stricken, but if she's too ill we'll not think less of her for not working. She's really quite something, your Willow. I tried teaching Alice to read before and thought that there was no use in trying because progress was so slow. But your Willow came in and now Alice reads almost as well as my wife." Mr. Walker grasped his lapel. "When we first met and you were telling me your wife's skills, I thought you were spinning a tale. But she's everything you said she was. I don't remember the last time I had to discipline my kids."

"Thank you for saying so, sir. She'll be thrilled to hear such high praise coming from you." Spike had no intention of telling Willow any of this. It would only make it all harder on her and the harder it was on her the less fun she was going to be, which would affect him. "Good night."

"Good evening, William."

When Spike returned to Willow he could tell she had been crying. He supposed that he could expect nothing less of her. He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the Bell barn, where they still lived. Predicting that a newly turned Liam wouldn't just go after his family, but after the conquest he had never won as well, Spike planned to move them from the barn's loft to the loft in the stables. It smelled worse, but Angelus wouldn't be able to find them as easily.

"Why are we moving?" Willow asked as they climbed into the barn's loft to get their things.

"The smell of the animals will help mask our presence. Darla and Angelus will have a hard time finding us." Spike made sure that all their belongings were safely tucked away in the satchel he was able to purchase last month. He had been preparing for this for a while now. He had been hiding away all the money he and Willow earned and was filching extra money from the Bells when he could manage it without them noticing, mostly farthings and halfpennies here and there, but they were adding up. It was splitting hairs, but he figured so long as he wasn't robbing people by force he was doing what Willow wanted. To be on the safe side though, he wasn't going to mention his way of getting extra cash.

"Makes sense." Willow was double checking to make sure they didn't leave anything behind. "How long does it normally take a vampire to rise?"

"It depends," he started down the ladder again. "And I don't know on what. Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes it takes a week. It's hard to say how long he'll be. Darla never mentioned it, and I never asked. It wasn't something I thought I'd ever need to know about Angelus."

"I understand that. I never asked either. It wasn't like I ever foresaw any of this happening. And I was never into Angel. I wonder if Buffy ever asked." Willow was following him down the ladder. "Probably not. I don't think she looked too hard at his vampireness."

"Probably not," Spike agreed, "And that relationship was just unnatural. A vampire and a Slayer... doomed before it even started. No wonder it turned out badly."

"He's back you know. Buffy insists that they are only friends now, but..." she let her thought go unfinished.

Spike however had no trouble picking it up. "But those two could never just be friends, yeah?"

"Yeah." They were in the stable now and Willow wrinkled her nose. "I'm not going to like sleeping in here."

"It's warmer. You were complaining about being cold just last night." Spike motioned for her to go up the ladder of the stable's loft first.

"I'm not sure I like the trade off." She still managed to get up the ladder without him being able to see up her dress. He had no idea how she managed that.

"The person you should be feeling bad for is me. I have a heightened sense of smell. Think about my poor nose in all this." He got up the ladder in the blink of an eye hoping that it would make her gasp like it normally did and he wasn't disappointed. He made sure not to do it too often or she'd get used to it and stop reacting to him.

She slapped him on the shoulder. "Can't you act normal?"

He leered at her. "That was normal for me."

Willow sighed and started patting the hay in the far corner of the loft, making a place to bed down. "We can't even get undressed tonight can we?"

"It would be best if we left town tonight, pet. We could steal one of the Hughes' horses and be gone before anyone knew to chase us. The last thing we want to do is be where Darla and Angelus are right now." He turned her face to look at him. "Especially when you've been turning him down for three months straight. He's going to be looking for you early on, if not first."

"I get what you're saying and it makes sense, but what if we get caught? It could ruin so much."

"And that excuse is going to get old, quickly little girl. You need to learn that doing everything the perfectly white, goody good way is going to muck things up just as much as if we did things my way all the time. I'm right about this, believe me. I've thought it through. Our best chance to get away clean is if we leave tonight."

"You can't go without me," Willow said with her jaw jutted out in defiance. "I'm how you eat."

Spike stood toe to toe with her looking down at her. "You care a whole hell of a lot more about this history thing than I do. You need me more than I need you. Women belong to their husbands in these times. You wouldn't be able to do anything on your own."

"I'd find a way," she insisted.

That's when he heard it: the faint but familiar giggle of Darla. They were still fairly far away if he was any judge, not expecting to be heard because they assumed their prey was human. He put a finger to his lips and Willow silently asked him what was wrong. He mouthed the words 'Darla and Angelus' to her and her eyes went wide.

Apparently good ole Liam decided to come after Willow first. That wasn't good. They needed to get out of there and they needed to get out of there yesterday. Picking the satchel back up and slinging it over his shoulder, he motioned for Willow to follow him... quietly.

When they made it down the ladder without her making so much as a squeak he was really proud of the girl. He supposed she had gotten some practice at being quiet living on top of a Hellmouth, but still with her stiff 18th century hard soled shoes it was impressive. She was almost as good as a vampire with her stealth. However, he thought they were done when the horses started to act up with them walking past their stalls, but they were in luck it seemed that Darla and Angelus were just getting to the barn now. He could hear them talking. Angelus was looking forward to taking Willow in every way he could once he got rid of 'William'.

_Sorry for your luck Angelus ole chum... but I'm taking the girl and getting the hell out of here before you can do anything._ Spike thought as he picked the better of the horses. It was young and freshly broken in. It would be able to carry the both of them for the rest of the night and into the next day if needs be. Hopefully nobody would be chasing them, though. He was counting a lot on Angelus' desire to kill his family and not wanting to pursue them. As for the Bells, Spike didn't plan on riding past the house, but through the field. They wouldn't know anything was wrong until morning.

He was undoing the pen the horse was kept in when Willow grabbed his arm and gave him a questioning look.

"Emergency," he whispered in her ear and it looked like she finally conceded to agree to something he had chosen to do. It was about damn time. They had been doing things her way for months and from where he was sitting, nothing good had come from it yet.

As fast as his vampire speed could do it, he put reigns on the horse but even with his speed there was no time for a saddle. He lifted Willow onto the horse and then jumped on himself behind Willow. No sooner had he done that then Angelus and Darla were entering the other end of the stable. Spike spurred the horse into motion and they were off across the field.

There had only been one other horse in the stable, along with some oxen, but the other horse was now not far behind him and Willow. Spike dared a glimpse and saw that Angelus hadn't even bothered with reigns. The good news was that the horse Angelus was riding was older and while it was doing a fair job at keeping up with them now, it wouldn't for long even if they did have two people on their horse.

He hoped.

"Willow," Angelus called. "Oh, Willow."

They were almost all the way across the field when Spike thought to remind Angelus of something really important. "You might want to turn back, chap. The sun will be rising soon."

Spike heard the sound of the extra hoof beats fade and he knew he had won. He glanced back and saw Angelus riding off in the opposite direction. They continued forward through to the next field, heading to parts unknown. Spike wasn't going to stop until they were far enough away that he thought there was no chance of Angelus catching up to them. Even if that meant going hungry for a couple of nights. He wasn't sure if they were even going to have time to stop and feed Willow. He planned on trading horses in the next town and continuing on without stopping.

Willow's body was pressed against him and she was shaking. He didn't think it was in fear. She knew that Angelus couldn't kill her. Was she cold? He had been so stringent on conserving money he hadn't thought to buy her anything warm to wear. But then when he heard a bit of a strangled sob he realized she was crying. She was probably thinking about all the people that Angelus was going to kill now that he wasn't chasing them. Those were the people that had taken them in. Those were the people that had been kind to them. Spike didn't care about them, but Willow was human and this wasn't the first time she cried over people in her life. He had witnessed her sobbing fits over missing her family and friends from Sunnydale. He just did what he always did in these instances. He related it back to Dru.

What if it was Drusilla who was about to be killed? He would feel bad then. So he started whispering soothing nothings into her ear. Things like, 'there there' and 'it's all for the best.'

The sun was up and high in the sky before he could say for sure that she had stopped crying. The horse was walking now and he could hold the reigns with one hand. He put the other arm around her, sensing that even though she wasn't crying, she was still mourning. If nothing else, he had never known her to go this long without talking before. He assumed that must mean she was really hurting.

He understood hurt because it still hurt like crazy that he wasn't with Drusilla. He wasn't sure how he was going to get through the next hundred and seven years. She was so much of who he was he didn't really know how to be without her. These past few months he had been feeling her absence keenly. A couple of the reasons he hadn't argued with Willow too much were because he wanted to make sure Dru still came to be just like she had before, and because it was easier to just listen to Willow then to do anything else.


	5. Chapter 5

1758 – Carlow, Ireland – Early Spring

"I'm sick to death of potatoes," Willow grumbled as she made herself breakfast over the fire in the hovel that her and Spike were living in. It was a one room shack that they rented off the man Spike worked for.

"Why do you think I don't eat them anymore?" Spike asked from where he was lounging on the bed, his hair having been dyed black during their trek from Galway to Carlow and never needing touch-ups.

"Shut up, you get to have me for dinner every night and from the way you describe it my blood is like chocolate. And meanwhile I'm stuck with potatoes for every friggin' meal. So you just keep your comments to yourself." Willow hated this conversation. The one they were about to have... again. She knew it was coming before Spike even opened his mouth. It was why she rarely ever complained. At the moment she could've slapped herself for having spoken out loud.

"You know we don't have to live like this. This was your idea." He was sitting up now and glaring at her.

"How many times do I have to tell you that we can't go around robbing people, Spike? The consequences to history would be just too drastic. We can't risk that."

"And how many times do I have to remind you of the times we're living in? Crime is a way of life and we wouldn't necessarily have to do strong arm robberies. I can pick a lock. We could easily just break into places and steal. We wouldn't even have to take everything... just skim off the top. Enough to make our lives much more pleasant. We could travel. Get the hell out of Ireland and away from the potatoes you hate so much." He was pleading with his eyes, begging her with a sad look on his face.

Willow looked down at her potatoes and was tempted to just chuck it all and do it Spike's way, but she knew she couldn't do it. She was worried about the ripple effects they were already causing by just existing in the wrong time. Doing the things that Spike suggested would only make matters worse. It was times like these that she desperately missed Sunnydale and her old life. The one where food was convenient and she had her friends to lean on when things got rough. "I can't do it, Spike."

A chill ran down her spine as a gust of wind seeped through the cracks of the shack. Spike got her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders when she shivered. It was enough to change the topic of conversation.

"You should really try to stay warm. We don't know if you can get sick or not," Spike said.

She smiled at him. "I don't think I can get sick. If I could get sick don't you think it would have happened when I got stuck in the snow last year? Besides, even if I did get sick, it's not like it could kill me."

He smiled warmly at her. "No, but if you got sick, you'd be miserable, which would make me miserable. And we can't have that, now can we?"

"No, we couldn't have that," she laughed softly before getting her potatoes out of the boiling water. They were probably overcooked, but it hardly mattered. Firm or mushy they still sucked.

When she finished choking down her breakfast, she drank a pint of milk to get the taste out of her mouth. Even though she had milk as often as she had potatoes, she never seemed to get sick of it. There were times she wished for variety, but the milk was the best part of her meal.

After that it was time to get ready for work. Spike was already dressed, his clothes dirty from his laborious job as a field worker. But Willow was only wearing her shift with her 1998 underpants underneath. Women of this age didn't wear underwear, but Willow couldn't go without, so while they were ready to fall apart, she still wore the tiny fabric of her old modern underpants. She was seriously considering learning how to sew so she could figure out how to make her own new underpants. The problem would be the lack of elastic. Perhaps if she substituted it with some kind of tie. It was something to think about.

Spike tied her into her corset, it no longer being the problem it once was. She was used to it now. And he did her unchanging short hair as she was still useless at using hairpins. They stuck with the same fashion everyday, because they didn't want to stand out. But as Willow understood it, Spike knew how to do more styles with hair than just a simple bun.

They already stood out because they were poor and didn't speak Gaelic, though they were learning. Still they were looked on as outsiders by everyone. No one was nice to them like in Galway. Willow learned quickly that the people that she had met in Galway were the exception to the rule.

She took care of the children for the Thompson family and was teaching them how to read and write, and while that got them three shillings a week from the Walkers, she was lucky that she was getting two here. And the parents didn't like her nonviolent approach to raising children. They were from the 'spare the rod, spoil the child' mentality and she loathed working there. But it was still better work than if she were cooking and cleaning. That was spirit breaking work indeed.

And compared to what Spike was doing she had it easy. She realized that he didn't have it as hard as the people doing the same job. He had preternatural strength and stamina to aid him in his work, but that didn't make his work any more interesting. It was repetitious and tedious work and she wasn't sure exactly what he did. She just knew he worked in the barley fields attached to the property. She had no idea what that meant. He refused to talk about it, when she asked, so she assumed that whatever it was, he hated it.

XxXx

When Willow was done with her day and Spike was there picking her up for the night so he could walk her home, Mrs. Thompson asked, "How long have you been working for us, Willow?"

"Almost five years, ma'am," Willow answered.

Mrs. Thompson studied Willow and Spike carefully. "Neither one of you have changed at all in all that time. You still have such short hair," she commented to Spike and then she took Willow by the chin. "And there isn't any sign of age on your skin."

"I like to keep my hair short, ma'am," Spike said.

Willow took a step back out of Mrs. Thompson's grasp. "I must be blessed with youth."

"It's just not natural," the older woman commented.

"If you don't need anything else this evening," Willow said, "we'll be on our way."

Mrs. Thompson grunted at them and Willow and Spike left.

"Well I don't think I need to tell you that we need to leave town," Spike said as they started to walk back to what had been their home for the last four and a half years.

"We'll leave tomorrow. Have we saved enough to get the hell out of Ireland?" Willow asked, taking Spike's arm as they walked.

"Sure. We should have enough to get off this island and start up in England somewhere." Spike eyed her for a second. "Any ideas of where in England you'd like to start?"

"Not London. It seems to me that Darla and Angelus spent a lot of time in London so I say we avoid it until the last minute."

"That's fine. You have a point. Perhaps we should start in Wales, shorter trip. I had an aunt who lived there, lots of history. Could be interesting."

"Sounds good. We should get a good night's sleep before heading out tomorrow. Are we walking or renting a coach? Do we have enough for a coach?" It was easier to let Spike take care of the money since everyone expected him to. She always had access to it, but Spike was the one who kept track of how much there was and how much they could afford to spend on what. She was still, even after five years, trying to get used to the prices of things and how haggling worked.

"We do."

"Good. It'll get us out of here faster."

As soon as they got inside their ramshackle house, Willow was taking the pins out of her hair and Spike was putting a fire on for her. She knew the cold didn't bother him, so she smiled at him being so thoughtful. She started to unbutton her dress, it was the same green one that Emma gave her when she first showed up in Ireland. She had another now too, a dark blue one that was very utilitarian. Once the dress was off, Spike automatically started to loosen the laces on her corset, like he did every night. When she was down to her shift, he started peeling off his jacket, vest, shirt, and stalkings. He left his pants on and he crawled into the one bed in the room. Willow crawled in after him. Spike pulled Willow into his arms, while she shook her hair back to reveal her neck.

"This is my favorite part of the day," Spike said.

"I'd imagine," Willow replied, not telling him that she liked this too now.

Willow knew that he took great care when he bit her. The little pain there was anymore registered as a knot that formed pleasantly in her belly. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes. As she drifted off into oblivion, she wondered how she ever had thought of this as a sacrifice.

XxXx

1767 – Merthyr Tydfil, Wales – Winter

They hadn't had jobs in over a year. Being new in town didn't help. They had no one to recommend them to anyone and jobs were scarce. All they owned were the clothes on their backs, what clothes they still had from 1998, a knife, and the ring they refused to get rid of no matter how desperate they got. Neither one of them had shoes or stalkings that were right for the times so they got a lot of strange looks when people noticed their feet. Willow had dyed her sneakers from the bright red they were to a less noticeable black and she painted the whites of the soles black as well, though that was chipping off now. Spike's utility boots got more than a fair share of the attention. When questioned they lied and said the shoes were from distant lands; they were never able to keep straight who they told what and they rarely cared. Most of the time Willow was wrapped up in Spike's duster and she wore her jeans under her dress as she shivered in the freezing British winter. For his part Spike pretended to shake and shiver in the cold when they were around other people.

The rich of the area had to pay a poor tax that went to the churches to take care of the destitute, but the paupers had to prove they were from that parish in order to get help. Willow and Spike were not even allowed to sleep in the churches at night because they couldn't prove they were from any particular parish. During the day they would beg in the streets and at night they would huddle together in an alleyway.

Spike returned to the alley where Willow was waiting for him with the stolen bread hidden under his jacket. He had stolen it from a windowsill of one of the richest families around when the cook left the room to set the table. He couldn't let Willow continue to go hungry. It was making her even more miserable than the cold and she was starting to get grouchy with him. This afternoon she snapped at him for not looking poor enough to encourage people's sympathies into giving them money. What was he supposed to do? Suck in his cheeks to look like he hadn't eaten in a really long time? She didn't look any worse than him. She looked perfectly healthy too, so if it was anyone's fault it was hers. He had a way to get money, she just wouldn't let him do it.

He sat next to her and pulled out the food for her. "I got ya this."

"Spike," she admonished as she took the bread from him.

"Don't even say it. Ya get mean when ya haven't eaten in a while and I'm calling this self-preservation." He pushed her hand with the food in it closer to her. "Eat."

"Where did ya get him from?" she asked instead.

"They'll have already noticed him gone, so you can't take him back unless ya want to get thrown in jail leaving me without a food source and ya know how I'll eat with ya locked up, so just eat."

Over the last several years both of them managed to pick up a distinctly Southern Welsh dialect replacing the word it with he or him to add on top of the accents they already had. So Willow sounded somewhere between American, Irish, and Welsh and Spike sounded somewhere between English, American, Welsh with a little Irish flavor. It didn't help them fit in.

"Why do ya do this to me?" she asked. "I was really close to having the hunger under control. I know him."

"We don't know if that'll even happen with the spell we're under," Spike argued. "Ya haven't eaten in over a week. I woulda thought that no hunger thing woulda kicked in by now."

"I canno remember how long he takes. I read his information in the fourth grade." Willow looked at the food in her hand and Spike could tell that she wasn't going to resist for much longer.

"Eat."

"I'm not gonna die from starvation."

"But ya get tired more often when ya haven't eaten in a long time. Eat."

"I shouldn't."

"Willow if ya don't eat I'll find a way to kill ya permanently even if he means forcing ya to do the second half of the spell without me and sending ya off into some unknown distant hell future by yourself. EAT!"

She finally caved and started eating. He wasn't able to take much or he would have been noticed, but he knew that Willow wouldn't be able to eat that much anyway, so it really didn't matter. He watched her until there was nothing left of the bread and she was washing it down with a handful of snow. He knew better than to argue with her about stealing anything else, she would never allow it. So she had doomed them to living on the streets and sleeping in alleyways. Finding places that weren't covered in some kind of excrement was often difficult. Lately the spot they were in now was where they retreated at night. It was a patch between buildings that had no windows above it. It wasn't large, just enough for the two of them to squeeze into it, but it was the best they could find. On nights when Willow couldn't bare the cold anymore they would sneak into someone's stable and sleep with the horses. It was warmer there, but they risked being caught by the owner.

"I just don't understand. He shouldn't be like this," Willow complained. And Spike was well aware of the conversation they were about to have. It was the one they had a lot lately. She seemed unable to let it go. He really didn't care about it, but he would go over it all again with her if she wanted.

"I don't get him either," Spike said. "Like why am I now completely resistant to holy water and crosses as well as the sun?"

"But you still need invitations into houses," she said in a higher pitch. "He makes no sense. And me. I can break a bone and he snaps right back into place and is healed in less than a minute, but hard work makes my muscles sore and they stay that way 'til I've either rested or worked out the knots."

"Ya're right. He makes zero sense. But that's magic for ya. Never makin' any sense." Spike made this point every time and it always had the same result: it led to the end of the conversation.

"But magic is based off of physics. He should make sense. Unless this spell is based off quantum mechanics... then there is no hope of him ever making any sense." She lay her head on Spike's shoulder and yawned. "I've said all this before haven't I?"

"Yeah, but I'm not worried about him. Let's just not have this conversation every day for the next hundred years, please." He leaned his head against hers. "We should get some sleep."

"And ya should eat," Willow said with another yawn. "And why do we get tired? Never mind, I'm dropping him."

Spike laughed softly. Her mind never stopped. It must an interesting place in there.

Rather than make her expose her neck for him, he accepted her outstretched wrist and sank his fangs into that. He was still able to get her heart to stop beating this way, it just took a little longer. When she was unconscious in his arms he lay them both down and he draped himself almost completely over her. This served two purposes: one it turned him into a blanket and two it kept anyone from coming and trying to steal her away from him. There were all kinds of scoundrels out at night and he wasn't going to have her deal with any one of them. It was bad enough that she almost got raped a little over a year ago by their last employer. An employer that was now making it rather impossible for them to find work in Wales. They'd even tried using different names but it seemed that their descriptions went with the warning not to hire them. And all because Spike punched the guy and kept him from hurting a girl... specifically his wife.


	6. Chapter 6

1769 – Bristol, England – Late Summer

It was a beautiful afternoon in Spike's opinion. They were finally in England and were gainfully employed again after having gone almost three years without jobs or a steady place to stay. He had gotten them a flat that was close to where Willow worked. She wasn't thrilled about her job, but she liked it more than she liked him stealing her food for the last couple of years. Scullery maid was never something Willow wanted to do, but it was the job she could get, so she took it. Spike gave her credit for work ethic, she never missed a day, never slacked off, or was late. Before their three year stint without jobs, Spike would have to say that his work ethic was less than stellar. But now, he was going to make sure that his employers never wanted to let him go. He didn't like being destitute with Willow. She usually refused to let him do anything illegal until they were beyond desperate and even then it was the absolute minimum. And during that time she was keeping close tabs. He couldn't do anything without her noticing. It was balls.

But at the moment he and Willow had a mutual afternoon off and they were spending it enjoying a beautiful day, sitting on a blanket in the park. Spike went out of his way to get her food she would like. He got her some cold mutton, peas, and pudding for dessert and some syllabub to drink.

She was happily eating her food. "Ya are a god. How can we afford all him?"

Spike wasn't about to tell her that half of it was stolen, so he shrugged and said, "I am the best haggler out there. Just be warned ya'll be having peas with a lot of your meals. I hope ya don't end up hating them like ya do potatoes."

"Don't even say that word. I had to peel them today for lunch." She took a bite of peas. "So how's work going?"

"Very well. He helps that I know so much about horses now. Lord Edwards was looking for someone who knew what they were doing and he seems to think that's what he got with me. But ah, I wish he weren't horses. Someday, I'll do something that doesn't involve horses at all." At least he knew that day would definitely come. They planned on investing wisely and since they had inside knowledge on what things were going to make it big, Spike foresaw them making a killing on the market come time.

"What's your dream job?" Willow asked before taking a bite of meat.

"I have no idea. I never pictured myself working before. Perhaps I could do something with the news at some point... for just a little while. I would definitely have a unique perspective on things." He pulled at the grass and watched as the sun began to set. He didn't even think about the fact that they were going to split up in 1998 and he wouldn't have to work after that. "What about ya? What's your dream job?"

"Something with computers. I miss having a keyboard under my fingers and the headaches I'd get after sitting behind a computer screen for far too long." She was smiling and he didn't understand how she could miss headaches. "And I can't wait for women's lib to get here. This women belong to men thing really stinks. I'm sick of being treated like a child. I'm smarter than most of the men I come across, but I have to act like I'm completely dim. It really pisses me off. Women shouldn't be subservient to men."

"If you're sick of being subservient then ya can dominate me anytime," he said leering at her suggestively.

She arched an eyebrow at him like she didn't believe him.

"I mean him. Give him a try, give me an order." Just to prove that he meant what he said he got on his knees before her with his head down.

"Okay... we're in public, so this is completely safe," she muttered to herself. "Rub my shoulders."

He smiled at her with his most seductive smile. "Yes, Mistress." Then he got behind her and started giving her a shoulder rub. She stopped eating and let her head fall forward as he rubbed at the knotted muscles. He knew she worked hard but he had no idea that it did this to her. He worked at the muscles and worked at them. When she moaned, he couldn't help but smirk.

"That feels nice," she murmured. "We should go home so ya can do my whole back."

"Yes, Mistress. Shall I gather our things?" he asked taking his role very seriously. He was enjoying himself.

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "That's a really good idea."

Spike knew that they were getting strange looks from the few people that were around, but he didn't really care. He had a plan. Seduce Willow while making her think it was all her idea. He had been sleeping with her in his arms for the last sixteen years. She was beautiful and sexy. Of course he wanted her. He had visited prostitutes a few times over the years, but he rarely wanted to spare the money for that kind of thing. And the people rarely bathed in these times. No matter how rough things got, Willow always did her best to be as clean as possible, as did he. People thought they were strange because of it. He didn't know how many times he had heard that bathes caused illness. But it simply came down to a matter of not wanting to have to smell bad. With his heightened sense of smell this was important to him. He gathered up their things and put them back in the basket he had brought them in.

They walked toward home with him carrying the basket, her arm through his, and her tattered parasol up to protect against any chances of people tossing the contents of their chamberpots out their windows at inopportune moments.

"I should have ya carry me," she teased. "My feet are sore."

"Yes, Mistress." And he swept her up into his arms.

She giggled and almost dropped her parasol. "Spike! My legs are goin' to show!"

"No they aren't, Mistress. I've got ya."

Willow clung to him and giggled some more. "I can't believe we're doing this."

He didn't need to see her face to know that she was beet red. The people they passed were gawking at them and Willow hid her face in the crook of his neck. He could feel her warm breath patter against his dead skin. Examining his existence for the first time in a really long time, he saw his human years as a bad dream. How naïve he used to be and how weak he was were things that he never wanted to look back on and see in himself. The following hundred and eighteen years were him trying to wash the nightmare away and failing miserably. The last sixteen years was like having a second chance at life. This time through he felt like he had a partner rather than someone that needed to be taken care of all the time. It was a different feeling. But he did take care of Willow, he reminded himself. He chased off her would be rapist. He looked out for Willow. Without him she'd have no other way to take care of herself than being a whore, and he didn't see her doing to well at that. But she looked out for him too. She always fed him. Even when she was angry at him, she still fed him. He could never forget that. If she had wanted to be a real pain in the arse about things she would have made him feed from animals, but she always gave herself up to him freely, without pause.

Once they were in their one room flat, he set her down gently and put the basket on the table. It could wait for later. He also took her parasol from her and placed it near the door. He lit some candles and then before she could protest he was at her feet and taking off her shoes and stalkings. She wordlessly let him do this. After that he started to unbutton her dress. This dress had been cheap, but it was impossible for her to get in and out of it herself as it fastened up the back with over a dozen tiny buttons.

"Take my hair down," she ordered in an even tone.

"Yes, Mistress." He removed all her hairpins and set them on the stand next to the bed. Then he returned to the task of getting her out of her dress. Most nights he usually just unbuttoned it for her, but tonight he pushed it off her shoulders and slipped it off her arms. He pulled it down over her hips and let it pool on the floor. Taking her hand he guided her to step out of it, he then picked the garment up and hung it in the wardrobe.

As always her corset was over her shift and he started to loosen it for her, though over the years she had finally figured out how to do this for herself. It was still easier when he did it for her and he did it now, then he pushed the corset down off her body before he also put it in the wardrobe. She was blushing and he wasn't sure why. He's seen her in her shift millions of times. He had even caught her naked a few times by accident. It was a little hard not to when you lived in each other's pocket like they did. He knew that she had seen him naked more than once. He didn't care. He only avoided it because she did.

She lay down in the middle of the bed on her stomach. "I won't be happy until every knot is out of my back," she said in an authoritative tone meant to mask some kind of embarrassment.

"Yes, Mistress." He started kneading the muscles of her upper back first and worked his way down getting her arms and hands as well. Her eyes were closed and she moaned when he hit spots that were particularly sore. He wished that he could move the shift out of his way but he knew that she would never approve of that, so he tried to work around it. When he thought he was done with her back, he asked, "Shall I do your legs and feet, Mistress?"

"Mmmm, yeah, he sounds like a good idea," she mumbled.

He lifted her shift to around her waist revealing her legs and the underwear she had made for herself. When he put his hands on her skin she shivered.

"Sorry, luv, as ya know, I haven't eaten."

Willow sat up then. "Ya should eat."

They had done this in so many positions that he was only mildly surprised when she straddled his lap and bared her throat. But instead of sinking his fangs in without preamble like he usually did, he ran his fingers through her hair and nuzzled her neck for a moment first. He thought about licking her, but thought that might be pushing it a little too far.

Normally he drained her drier than the Sahara, but tonight he wanted her awake, so he only took enough to warm him and quench his immediate thirst. If he had to suffer through a parched day the next day then so be it. It wouldn't be the first time for that. When he pulled back from her and she was still awake the surprise was evident on her face.

"Huh?"

He stroked her hair a few times. "Tonight's about you... not me. I've survived on nothing for a day or so in the past, this'll be no different."

"But..."

Spike put a finger on her lips to keep her quiet. He looked deep into her eyes. Before he was completely aware of his actions he was drawing her in for a kiss and once he did know what he was doing, he wasn't going to stop himself. She seemed willing.

Until her mouth was just a hair's breath away from his. Then she pulled back looking hurt. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Placing a hand on her face and stroking her cheek, he decided to play the respect card. "I respect you too much for this to be a joke."

She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah right. I don't believe for a second that ya respect me. At most ya tolerate me because I'm your food source."

He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders. "If I didn't respect ya, I'd have dropped ya like a sack of rocks a long time ago and been killing and plundering my way through time, history be damned."

"Ya just want to make sure Drusilla gets born."

"What do ya know about me and patience?" Spike asked trying a different tack.

Willow looked at him curiously trying to move off his lap, but not being allowed to. "Ya've got to be one of the most patient people I've ever met."

"Are ya kidding me? Have we met? Do you even remember how I impulsively attacked the school? Or how I had you do the spell that sent us back in time without even looking at the entire thing?" He was starting to wonder about her sanity.

She gave him an incredulous look. "That was a long time ago, Spike. Since then ya've been nothing but patient... mostly. Ya never complain about how long it'll take before Drusilla's born, and ya never get impatient with me when I'm trying to learn something new about the times we're in."

Seeing her point, he tilted his head in concession. "Okay, fine, I see how ya would think that I was patient, but I'm telling ya I have over a hundred years of time before we went on this trip that would say otherwise."

"If ya say so, Spike. What's your point anyway?" she asked putting her arms on his shoulders.

"My point is that if ya think that my only reason is Drusilla then ya've seriously misjudged my ability to be patient. Ya make up the rest of the reason. I trust that ya know what your talking about and that if I did do something to screw history up ya really would make me pay for it. See, respect all the way." He rubbed her sides.

"That would make you the only male in these times that respects me," she sighed.

"It's a sign of the times and nothing more. Don't let him get to ya. In the next century women get some rights... not many, but a few. Ya'll have a wider variety of jobs to chose from if nothing else." He tried to get her to smile, but failed. "What's really bothering ya?"

She put her hands over her face. "It's really embarrassin'."

"It can't be as bad as all that. Just tell me what's wrong so we can deal with it." He was softly stroking her back, trying to show that he was only wanting to help her. And he was telling himself that whatever the problem was he wasn't going to laugh at her because that would only make matters worse he was sure. And he didn't want to wake up as a newt. She had been practicing her magic whenever she could and she was getting better and better, so there was definite reason to fear.

This time when Willow tried to get off his lap he let her. She took a couple deep breaths and looked at him very seriously. "Just try not to laugh at me."

He made a motion like he was buttoning his mouth shut and waited.

"I'm tired of being a virgin," she said.

Spike was well aware of the fact that she was still a virgin, she still tasted as pure as when he first laid fang into her. He just never thought about it much from her perspective. Since she still looked seventeen he didn't think about the fact that she was really older than that. They never celebrated birthdays or anything over the last sixteen years, so age didn't occur to him.

"I'm thirty-three years old and there isn't a single man I've come across that I'd want to have sex with. They are all so full of themselves. And the ones that aren't would never touch me because I'm married and those ones are very few and far between. Very few. And he isn't like I can reveal that I'm not really married because of the times and all. Really he is all just very frustratin'." She humphed and threw her hands into her lap. "And sleeping in the same bed as ya every night doesn't help."

He couldn't help but smirk at that last bit. Pushing a lock of her still shoulder-length hair behind her ear, he said. "Look, if ya don't want to be a virgin anymore we can take care of that easily enough. Two people as sexy as us together and respecting each other. He isn't all that hard to figure out. I mean ya are my wife."

Willow laughed bashfully at that. "But ya don't see me that way."

Spike pulled her back onto his lap. "I've been holding back out of respect for you and not wanting to get turned into a newt. I would have to be blind not to think you are the sexiest little thing around. And sleeping in the same bed with you every night doesn't hurt that opinion at all. So shall we go back to our game, Mistress?"

She didn't answer the question because she was busy kissing him instead.

XxXx

Willow woke up the next morning and was instantly embarrassed. As usual she was pinned under Spike's arm, but this morning she was naked and last night they had had sex. She felt the sudden need to be dressed and away. Not thinking that she was going to be able to face Spike this morning, she tried to get out from under his arm without waking him. She had never tried to do this before, and this morning she found out that it didn't work.

Spike pulled her closer to him and began to kiss the back of her shoulder. "Mornin', luv."

"Ah, mornin'. I'm afraid that we may have slept in. We should hurry and get ready to go to work." She was hoping that would get him to let her go.

But unfortunately he responded with, "It's Sunday, they won't expect you in until after church and since this is a big enough city that no one is going to notice whether you go or not, we can stay in bed for another hour if we wanna."

She felt trapped. This was not something she was prepared to deal with. She had long ago mourned the loss of Oz and Xander. She had no hopes of ever having a future with either one of them. By the time she caught back up with that time, she would be a whole other person and wouldn't fit into the Sunnydale crew at all. And she wasn't going to try. There would be two Willows and she wasn't going to force them to have to deal with both of them. So that dream was long dead. It was a ghost.

But the shadow of Drusilla loomed. Spike, as far as Willow knew, still planned on whisking her away once they caught up to her. So where did that leave Willow? She was telling herself that it didn't matter because she certainly didn't love Spike. Not like that. So what did it matter that he was going to whisk Drusilla away in another ninety one years? It wasn't like her heart was going to get broken over it. She had just seen no reason to be a virgin anymore. Spike had made sense last night. They respected each other. Why shouldn't they do this?

With that last thought Willow relaxed. It was no big deal. She was sore from the night's activities, but pleasantly so. She was going to remember every touch throughout the whole day. She could think of worse things to occupy her mind. But for some reason Drusilla invaded again. She just had to know about how Spike felt about her now. It had been a long time since they had talked about her at any length.

"What about Drusilla?" Her voice was quiet.

Spike sighed. "I don't know how I feel about her anymore. I've never gone this long without her since becoming a vampire. And I don't know how she'll feel about me when she does get turned. It may never be like it was."

That far from set Willow's mind at ease, but she supposed he was being honest. It sounded like an honest answer. She hoped it was an honest answer.

He turned her over to face him. "Let's not think about her, luv. We've got ninety years before we have to worry about her."

Willow nodded and then Spike kissed her with his hand slipping down her body.


	7. Chapter 7

1855 – London, England – Autumn

Willow was vaguely aware of the fact that her and Spike were living in a bubble, she just never dared to do anything that would burst it. Neither one of them had mentioned Drusilla's name since 1769. Coming to London now didn't seem like a choice either of them had made. It just seemed to have happened and Willow was willfully ignoring the nervousness she was feeling about being here.

They worked together at the moment. He tended bar and she was a waitress at the same bar on the same days. Today was one of their days off and they were spending it doing one of their activities. They loved their activities. As soon as they were able they started going to libraries, attending lectures, things like that. Sometimes Willow had to dress like a man to get in but that was all part of the fun for them. It had become a big game. When they were feeling mischievous they would dress up and crash high society parties. So long as they didn't make too big a scene they felt they were all right. They had saved up quite a bit of money. On top of their day jobs they invested into water closets, which was bringing them in a lot of money. Soon they wouldn't even need to work.

Today they were walking around Hampstead looking at the nice architecture. This was something they did when they had nothing else to do and didn't feel like going to one of the libraries. Being better read these days and far more traveled around England, their accents were broadly English not being specific to an area of any kind and they got the word 'it' back in their vocabulary.

They were passing a church with large stained glass windows and with a Gothic flair. "We should check it out," Willow suggested. "Churches sometimes have the strangest things in them. You never know what we'll find."

Spike smiled at her. "Like that finger bone behind glass? What saint was that from?"

"I don't remember which saint, but I remember us being oddly fascinated with it." She pulled on his arm and took them inside.

It seemed they had come during the scheduled confessions. People were lined up in pews waiting to get into the small boxes where they would confess to their priests. Willow and Spike had been seeing this more and more over the last fifty years... a growth in the Catholic church. There was even the Catholic Relief Act in 1829. So it wasn't so unusual to see Catholics anymore. And during the potato famine and with the French coming over there was a huge surge in Catholics in England.

Pulling her close, Spike whispered in her ear, "What do you think? Do we have enough time for me to confess my sins?"

Willow had to stifle her laughter. "I don't think we'll ever have time for all that. Come on they have beautiful windows."

They were looking at the stations of the cross done in lead and colored glass when Willow noticed a change in Spike. He suddenly got tense. She looked where he was looking and her heart started to immediately ache.

Drusilla was there.

A very young Drusilla, but unmistakeably Drusilla. She looked to be no older then fifteen and she was with her sisters and her parents. And Spike couldn't take his eyes off of her. He took several steps in her direction, not even glancing at the reliquary that housed a human skull.

When Spike followed Dru out the door, Willow's heart broke and the bubble she had been living in for the last eighty-six years burst. Willow couldn't bare to follow him out the door.

XxXx

1858 – London, England – Summer

Spike ended up getting replaced as the bartender at the pub he and Willow worked at because his work attendance was so poor. He didn't care. He had to see everything _she_ was doing. He was rarely home and he rarely talked to Willow beyond getting fed nightly. He barely tasted her anymore. Her virginity remained thanks to the spell and her power had only increased as time passed, but at the moment it was salt on his lips.

He knew he needed to decide between Drusilla and Willow, something he had been avoiding for a very long time. But that time was up. The decision needed to be made. He just didn't want to make it. He wanted both. He wanted them to become a great trio. He knew that Willow was a bit catholic with her tastes and he remembered that Drusilla and Darla got together quite a few times over the years. He had reason to think that it would work. But he also had reason to think that it wouldn't work. Drusilla as a vampire was insanely cruel, Willow wouldn't be able to be with someone like that. The reason Willow was able to be with Spike now was because he hadn't killed in a hundred and five years.

Had he really been with Willow that long?

They hadn't been lovers all that time, but they had been companions for all of it. Even at their worst they had always in the end been there for each other. Was that all going to end now? Was there no way to salvage things? Was there no way to make the two parts of his heart line up? He had come to adore Willow, but he still loved Drusilla so much it hurt.

He was watching Drusilla now. She was embroidering something with lots of colorful flowers and she looked so happy. He had been watching her for almost three years now and he couldn't believe how sane she was and how happy she seemed with her family. There were a few spots of gloom on the gilding because of her visions, but for the most part they seemed to be so incredibly blissful.

There wasn't going to be much of that left. It wasn't too far off when Angelus and Darla would show up and put an end to all of that.

Spike tore his eyes away from Drusilla and walked home with his head down. He didn't know what to do and he needed to talk to Willow. No one knew how to make sense of things for him better than Willow and he needed her now like he had never needed her before. He knew that he'd been blowing her off a lot recently. She had been trying for a long time to get him to do the things they used to do together. Even this morning, she had tried to get him to take her to the library since it was her day off, but he told her that he'd do it some other time. He was busy. She simply nodded and said, 'Of course.'

Not knowing whether she was even in the apartment, Spike walked up the stairs and unlocked the door. He didn't even need his eyes to tell him that she wasn't there. Looking in the bedroom wardrobe to see what she was wearing, Spike was trying to figure out whether he should wait for her here or go look for her. Her men's clothes were gone. She had gone to the library without him. He checked his pocket watch and determined that she would be home shortly if she didn't stop anywhere after the library so he went back out to sitting room to wait for her.

If they were together, they might have stopped someplace to eat after the library or have gone for a walk, but he had no idea what she might do after the library by herself. She was always so curious that she could be up to absolutely anything. For all he knew she was off to see a prostitute. He wouldn't put it past her with the way he's been ignoring her lately and he certainly wouldn't hold it against her under normal circumstances but he needed to talk to her right now... this very minute.

Willow came through the door looking sad. She took her hat off and her jacket and hung them up on the coat rack just inside the door.

"We need to talk," Spike said.

"I figured as much, you're actually home before dark." She sat in the other wingback chair and looked at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Spike stood up and walked over to the window and looked outside. It was a beautiful summer day. There should be nothing wrong on a day like this. "I can't let her be turned."

"I see," Willow said quietly. "Why not?"

He turned to look at her. There was no surprise on her face, there was only sadness mixed with curiosity. Supposing that he better make the explanation a good one, he started with, "She's sane. I've never seen her sane before. Sure there were moments over the years where she would seem lucid, but it was never like this. She's so happy now and I never want to see her world ripped out from under her. I don't give a damn what the consequences are we have to save them all."

She nodded. "So you want to keep her from going insane. Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm afraid what you want is impossible, Spike. And I'm not trying to be mean here. I'm just telling you how things work. The Drusilla I remember seemed schizophrenic and if I'm right about that her symptoms are going to happen whether you stop her turning or not. One day she's going to break from reality and for humans during this time period her future is pretty bleak." Her eyes were apologetic.

"What are you saying?" Spike asked anger seeping out of his voice.

"I'm saying that Drusilla is sick and the symptoms are going to show one day no matter what. If she's human when that happens they may cart her off to Bedlam. Do you really want that for her? Do you know how they treat the patients there?" Willow looked angry now. They were now talking about one of her least favorite things about history.

He knew very well how they treated the patients at Bedlam. He toured the place for giggles once, but now it didn't seem so funny. The idea of Drusilla there chilled him. "I don't think her parents would do that to her."

"What will happen to her after her parents die? Spike, there are no guarantees here about what would happen to her if she were human. But we do know what her life will be like as a vampire. I read the Watcher's Diaries, Angelus takes care of her after she becomes a vampire and later on you do. And you said it yourself... you were happy together. She was happy with you. Insane... yes, but that's unavoidable. So the question becomes... which life is best for her? Human and unknown? Or vampire where we know she's happy?" The look on Willow's face was completely serious with edges of pain. This was a difficult conversation for her. He could tell that it still went against the grain for her to be advocating for letting someone get turned.

"If it were your choice?" Spike asked.

"Then we wouldn't meddle with history. We'd leave tomorrow and go very far away. Learn a new language if we had to, whatever, just go." She looked tired now.

"I don't know if I can leave her," he muttered.

"At least you haven't talked to her," Willow said.

"How do you know that?" he wanted to know.

Her hands started to wring together and she was looking at everything but him.

"How do you _know_ that?" he asked again getting into her face.

Very quietly, almost so quietly that he couldn't hear her, she replied, "I've been following you. On my days off."

"Impossible. I would have smelled you or saw you." He huffed and then went to look out the window again.

"I stay downwind and you never see anything but her." If it was possible to hear a heart break he was sure he just did.

He looked at her again. "How long have you been following me?"

Her eyes were downcast. "As long as you've been following her."

Spike's eyes got really wide. How was she able to follow him for so long without him knowing about it? Surely there would have had to have been a shift of wind or something to tell him that she was there at some point. Or was he so caught up in Drusilla that he'd have missed it if she were standing right next to him? He sat down and held his head in his hands. _How lost have I been?_

"What will you do if I decide to save her and her family?" he asked.

"I'll help. What else can I do?" He knew in that moment that she loved him because she was willing to do whatever he wanted.

He had a decision to make.


	8. Chapter 8

1860 – London, England – Spring

Spike was watching Drusilla again. It was close to when Angelus and Darla turn her world cruelly upside down, but they weren't around yet. Now she looked exactly like he remembered her, but there was something missing and he wasn't sure what it was. Over the last couple of years he has watched her less than he had been. He even started taking Willow out again and they had some jolly good times, but he still always came back to watch Dru. He noticed that something was missing about a year ago and he had been trying to place what that something was ever since. The deficiency wasn't with Drusilla herself; she was fine. So he didn't know where this lacking could be.

It took him nine months to figure out that the lacking was something within himself, but he still didn't know what was missing. He stared at Drusilla while she talked with one of her sisters and tried to figure it out. He still loved her, wanted to protect her, but then he caught just a slight tid bit of conversation and it told him everything.

"I think James wants to ask Dad for your hand in marriage," Aubrianna whispered to Drusilla as they walked past him.

Drusilla giggled. "You think someone is really interested in me?"

The fact that Spike didn't go off in a jealous rage told him all that he needed to know. He loved Drusilla but he wasn't _in_ love with her anymore. But that still left him with a quandary. Should he save her and her family or not? He didn't have an answer for himself. And whenever he couldn't answer something he went to Willow, but in this case he didn't need to. He already knew her answer. She'd keep history the same. So he had his answer. He wasn't going to interfere.

"He'll be at the Marshall's party tonight, perhaps he'll ask you to dance," Aubrianna said conspiratorially.

"I refuse to get my hopes up," Drusilla said back.

XxXx

Willow dressed in her best dress. Spike was taking her to a party tonight. Granted she highly suspected that Drusilla was going to be there given his amount of enthusiasm about it, but it was the first party they would have attended in years and she so missed them. She hoped he wasn't so distracted that he wouldn't play a couple of games with her. They liked making up stories about the guests and betting on who was further from the truth. The one more farfetched would win so it was always a good time. But if she had to, she'd corner some unsuspecting young thing into entertaining her for the evening while Spike followed Drusilla around like a love-sick puppy.

When they arrived, Spike surprised the hell out of her by producing an invitation instead of having to sneak in through the servant's entrance. Once they were inside she turned on him and said, "You didn't tell me we were invited. That ruins all the fun."

Spike gave her grin that oozed deviousness, "We weren't. I picked the invite up from the Harvey's porch. They're out of town more often then in, but they still get invited everywhere."

She smiled at him with a wide grin where her tongue was stuck between her teeth. "That's genius, we should have been doing that for years. We would've got kicked out of less parties."

He guided her into one of the more crowded rooms. "I only just thought of it today."

"What's the point of this party anyway?" Willow asked as they passed by several other guests.

"It's the Marshall's youngest daughter's coming out party," Spike said grabbing two glasses of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. He handed a glass to Willow and then offered her his arm again. "Her name is Tessa and she just turned fifteen."

It occurred to Willow that she was fairly sure that Drusilla never had a coming out party. Her parents probably never wanted to display the daughter with the visions. She knew her sisters had coming out parties. She had watched Spike watch them.

Tonight though he didn't have to watch from outside. He was indoors, right in the thick of things. She wondered if he would have the nerve to ask Drusilla to dance. It might effect history, but she could see him doing it and tempting the fates. And she was going to keep her nose completely out of it. All she could do was watch the wreckage. She loved him. There was no way she could tie his hands, no matter what the consequences.

She tried not to think about it but just being back in time changed things. They took jobs that rightfully belonged to other people. They took up apartments that should shelter others. The money they used, the clothes they wore, the people they interacted with... all of it was effecting history. She just wished she knew to what degree. Even when they were homeless and lived on the streets they were begging money and stealing food that they had no right to. The changes were going to happen whether Willow liked it or not. All she could do was try to minimize the damage. But in this case she wasn't even going to do that. Because she loved Spike and she would do whatever he decided to do. Even if it meant she lost him in the end.

Spike pointed to the most outrageously dressed couple in the room. "What do you think their story is?"

Willow took a good look at the couple, squinting her eyes and sizing them up, however her head wasn't in the game yet. "I think they're poor and stole their clothes and came in through the servant's entrance just to have a good meal and some free alcohol."

"No way, look at the way her hair is done. It took two servants half the day to do that. I think they have money... loads of it, but absolutely no taste to go with that money. And he's old while she's young, I'll bet that she was poor and he rescued the poor delicate young thing from a life of poverty and starvation." Spike however seemed to be thinking just fine and was more than ready to play. "You do realize that even if I'm spot on I'm still going to win this round because you didn't even try."

"Fine, but we should still go over and find out how those two crazy kids met and see if you were even within range," Willow said, taking a sip of her drink. "Part of the game is still finding out the truth."

"In a minute," Spike leaned close and whispered in her ear, "First I want to find a secluded little corner and take advantage of the fact that you don't wear as much under your dress as the other ladies."

Willow blushed scarlet, "Spike, I'm not trying to get kicked out of a party we have an invitation to." She hit him in the chest with the back of her hand. "We should wait 'til everyone is a lot more drunk than they are now."

He kissed her on the cheek. "You had me worried for a second. Thought you had gone and replaced my girl with someone else."

For a moment the bubble was back and it was just Willow and Spike with nary a shadow of Drusilla to be seen and Willow smiled. "Never. Let's go talk to Mr. and Mrs. Loud."

Spike smiled at her. "Let's."

While they were walking over to the couple in question Willow thought that they were doomed when she caught sight of Drusilla entering the room with her sisters. But Spike merely paused, noticed her, and then continued them on their path. Willow was so stunned that when they got to the gentleman and lady in their sights she nearly forgot her lines.

The method was divide and conquer and when Willow regained her senses she took the lady by the elbow and started to guide her away, she couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old now that Willow was up close looking at her. "You simply must tell me who made you this dress."

Seeming to be very relieved to be away from her husband the lady, or more accurately to Willow's mind, girl, smiled sweetly. "My husband had it made for me. I always feel overdone in these things. And my hair is so old-fashioned. I should be wearing a bonnet like you are. I'm Mabel."

"I'm Waverly," Willow said, giving the name she always used at parties.

"I've never seen you at any of the Marshall's parties before, are you new in town?" Mabel asked.

"Very, I'm surprised we even got an invitation. This was our first in London." Willow guided the girl to halfway across the room before settling them in front of the fire. "If you want, I could have my Henry talk to your husband about getting you some bonnets. He's very suave."

"I doubt he could change Joseph's mind about how I'm to be presented, but he's welcome to try. Joseph is very set in his ways. I'm lucky to have hoops under my skirt." Mabel swayed to make it evident that there were indeed hoops under her skirt.

"I don't mean to pry, but was your marriage arranged?" Willow asked starting to get to the questions about whether or not Spike's story was accurate.

Mabel's face fell. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"I don't like to assume anything," Willow said as she glanced over to see what Spike was doing. He was still talking to Joseph, much to her surprise. She expected that he would have gone after Drusilla by now. Drusilla was still in the room, she was standing next to the stairs all by herself practically hidden by other guests. There was no way that Spike could see her. "New topic, I'm surprised that Henry and I got an invitation to such a nice party. We aren't exactly made of money, though we've had some success investing in water closets."

"There's a variety of different kinds of people here," Mabel said. "Some are new money and some are old."

"Which are you and Joseph?" Willow put on her best innocent face.

After about a half an hour of talking to Mabel, Spike found her and pulled her away insisting that since there was a room just for dancing that they take advantage of it. She let Spike guide her away.

As they got started dancing he cursed the hoops under her dress. "Damned hoops, I'm tripping over them."

Willow smiled because he was tripping over the hoops because he was trying to hold her closer than was acceptable for the times. Willow didn't like the hoops either and got the smallest ones possible, but even those were cumbersome. With every step of the dance Spike was hitting his ankles against the bottom hoop. She looked around and found that every man there was having the same difficulty, they just weren't saying anything about it.

"When do these things finally go out of style?" she asked.

"Right about the time bustles start coming into style," Spike said with a smart-ass grin on his face. He knew very well that she couldn't stand these kinds of things and he was enjoying the horrified look on her face.

"I'll just have to be eccentric and go without. I don't think I'd be able to navigate my way through a door with a bustle under my dress."

"Perhaps you'll squash the trend." He turned them in time with the music.

"One can only hope. There are certain things history can do without," she joked and he laughed.

"Certainly."

Dancing in history was complicated, but Willow had taken the time to learn. Spike knew most of the dances because apparently Darla insisted that he learn something civilized. Willow suspected that she taught him how to dance as a way to lure out unsuspecting victims, but didn't want to tell her that. She noticed that unless he was mad at her, he never talked about the fact that he used to kill people.

"There's a challenge on the table for you should you choose to accept it," Willow said as they turned again.

"Oh really? A challenge? You know I can never pass up a challenge."

"Mabel hates how her husband has her do her hair and would prefer some bonnets. Perhaps you could talk some fashion sense into the old coot." The waltz finished and Willow and Spike stopped, clapped and left the dance floor.

"I'm on it. Perhaps you can seduce the young and delicious looking Mabel while I'm at it." Spike said as a counter challenge. "It seems that the Stevens will be dominating our evening."

Willow blushed. "So it would seem."

Spike growled in her ear, "I love that you still blush, even after all we've done."

The rest of the evening found them in the company of the Stevens, Spike managed to talk Joseph into buying some bonnets for Mabel, but Willow was only able to seduce a very chaste kiss out of Mabel. She was somewhat disappointed, having hoped that the young lady would have been more open than she was.

As Willow and Spike were dancing one final dance of the evening, Spike felt the need to gloat over his victory and her loss. "I lived up to my challenge, but it seems you couldn't even get a proper snog out of sweet little Mabel."

"Spike you know very well that I can't force anyone to be something they aren't. If she's simply straight there's not a damn thing I can do about it. It isn't like our challenges were equal either. You simply had to talk to an old man while I was given the chore of trying to seduce a sheltered young woman. I should have you try to seduce Mr. Pendegrove as way to even the score." Willow stated evenly.

"Blek. Not Pendegrove... at least give me someone pleasant to look at like perhaps the Disher boy or Charles Allen. I could possibly have a lot of fun with those if they showed up at the next party."

"Allen would be too easy," Willow insisted. "but you may have a good case with the Disher boy. I think he'd swallow his tongue if a man hit on him. So you have a deal. If the Disher boy is at the next party, you have yourself a challenge. And you know I require to either see it with my own eyes or you have to provide proof. You are a notorious cheat."

"Oh how you flatter me," Spike said with a grin on his face. "It's one of the many things I love about you."

"Oh really? The _many_ things you love about me?"

"I had a list actually, but it got very long and drawn out and hard to remember, but what it boiled down to is that I'm absolutely head over heels in love with you..." Spike pulled her close despite her hoops and the onlooking guests, "every part of you."

For a moment Willow was just ecstatic but then she remembered. "What about Drusilla?"

Spike shrugged in an exaggerated manner. "I still love her, but I'm not _in_ love with her. I'm going to let history play out like it should. I just want to watch her to keep these times safe. Someone has to remember that she was once a bright sane girl."

Willow just stared at him for a moment. "You should write it all down. Everything you remember so it never fades."

He let out a sigh of relief. "So you understand?"

"I do. I really really do. Will you let me read the journals? That way you have someone you can talk to about her." Willow was dragging him off the dance floor now since they weren't dancing anymore.

"That would mean so much to me. I've been so lonely these last five years. I didn't think I could talk to you about her."

"Oh, Spike, haven't you figured out yet that I'm always here for you? I'll listen to anything you want to tell me."

And not caring about their surroundings or what time they were in, Spike kissed her passionately – right in front of everyone... including Drusilla.


	9. Chapter 9

1860 – London, England – Early Autumn

Spike felt like a real pillock for letting it all happen and a big part of him wanted to turn away and not watch all the destruction, but he couldn't help it. Part of it was an evil thing. Just because he was house broken didn't mean all his urges had gone away and watching Angelus work was something else. And another part was just because he felt the need to keep a record.

He watched while Angelus tore Drusilla's family apart one by one. Starting with the more distant relatives, cousins, aunts and uncles, he maliciously murdered each one and made sure that she was the one that found them. When he killed her mother, he left her body naked and spread eagle. That was the first sign of Drusilla's sanity cracking. He left her father in much the same state. When it came time for Drusilla's precious sisters, he raped them in front of her before killing them and leaving her with the bodies.

That was when she fled to the convent and for a while she must have felt safe.

But Spike and Willow followed Angelus and Darla to the convent and watched while they killed all the nuns, shagged in the middle of the slaughter, practically on top of a raving mad Drusilla, before Angelus turned her.

Spike watched the slaughter of the nuns with a sort of glee, while Willow closed her eyes and hid her face in his chest, which would have been a strange sight to anyone looking as Willow was wearing her men's attire. But not even Spike could enjoy the torment on Drusilla's face when the last of her reality snapped like the bones of a rodent being squeezed by a boa constrictor. And he saw exactly what laid the death blow to her sanity. It wasn't all the murder, but the joy Angelus and Darla took in committing the murders.

Willow watched the last bit with tears in her eyes. Spike wasn't sure why he brought Willow to this, it just felt like the thing to do. He was closing a chapter in his life and he wanted her there with him when he did. But the look on her face told him that it was a bad idea. Carnage was not something that would sit well with his girl. For as much as he killed her every night, she didn't enjoy watching death with a smile.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered to her guiding her away from the scene.

She nodded her head and let herself be led away.

The horses were tied up quite a ways away so as to not be noticed by Angelus and Darla and Spike and Willow were no where near them when Willow was pulled out of his grasp and strong arms were pulling at him. He was face to face with Angelus and Willow was being held firm in Darla's arms.

"Well, well, well, let's see what we have. Peeping toms?" Darla cooed.

Angelus however didn't seem so relaxed. He looked confused and angry. "I know you."

Spike struggled to get free, but Angelus's hands were like steel. "Get the hell off me you pillock!"

Looking from Spike to Willow and back again, Angelus started crushing Spike's arms with his grip. "Willow? William? How the hell?"

Willow was calm. "We could ask you the same question but I think we all know the answer."

"Vampires?" Angelus asked.

Spike was about to agree with that statement thinking that it would get them free, but Darla had to be too damn observant. "This one isn't. She has a heartbeat and breathes."

Angelus slipped into his vampire face and growled. "What are the two of you?"

Thinking quickly, Spike said the only thing he could... taking from a vague recollection of vampire fiction. "I'm a vampire and she's my human slave. There was a ritual and now she's tied to me. She won't die unless I do." He let his vampire features show.

"Interesting," Angelus said. "How does this slave thing work?"

Much to Spike's relief, Angelus's grip relaxed. Spike took the opportunity and twisted his arms out of the grasp completely and headbutted the other vampire. Meanwhile, Willow did something to throw Darla back, probably something magical and they took off running hand in hand for the horses. Willow was muttering under her breath the entire time. He wasn't entirely sure what she was going on about, but if it had anything to do with the fact that Angelus and Darla weren't chasing them he'd have to thank her later.

When they reached the horses, Willow looked about ready to faint and Spike was concerned. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine... I just can't hold them back any longer. We've got to hurry." And with that she lifted herself up onto her horse.

Spike did the same and it was none too soon because he could hear hoof beats behind them. Angelus and Darla no doubt. Willow waited for him and they went off together, thundering through the near empty streets. They really needed to lose their vampire tails.

Taking the lead, Spike took them through tight quick turns, trying to lose Angelus and Darla but they were having no luck. It seemed that the pair were expert horsemen and even with their head start there was no losing them. Scenery was flying past them and Spike was now heading them out into the open where there were no buildings to hide hoping that it would scare Angelus and Darla away with the coming morning. Sunrise was still an itch that Spike could feel well before the sky ever showed signs of the sun. It wouldn't be long. If Darla and Angelus didn't turn back soon they would be fried.

The chase went on until the sky started to lighten with the coming dawn. And finally the hoof beats behind them were retreating. If they hurried and their horses didn't give out the two might actually make it to shelter before the sun set them on fire.

Slowing their horses and turning around Spike and Willow watched them retreat.

"Well I guess this means we'll be leaving London," Willow said.

"Which is too bad really, I was just teaching the Disher boy how to give proper head," Spike said purposely ignoring the fact that he had learned the boy's first name.

Willow laughed and headed her horse back towards the city at a slow trot. He followed her.

XxXx

The problem with Italy was that they didn't speak a word of Italian (or enough French in this case) and this was before everyone in the world started speaking English as a second language, so Willow and Spike were having a bitch of time trying to get things taken care of. It wasn't until their third day there that they found someone that spoke passable English who could translate for them. As it turned out Spike, for all his age and traveling, never bothered to learn any other languages. And Willow barely remembered any French from her high school classes.

After a week of living off their savings, Willow decided that they should consider looking for some kind of work. Learn the language. Start to try and settle down. Something. Because while they had some money, they weren't exactly swimming in it at the moment. Spike was being extra frugal which meant that he wanted it to last. They were staying in a one-room flat in the poorer end of a village that Willow couldn't even pronounce the name of properly, Sestriere, just 17 kilometers from the French border.

And what were they supposed to invest in here that would make them money? Willow didn't know and neither did Spike. It seemed that they needed to find jobs; something that was going to be difficult with the language barrier. But Willow was determined.

"We need to talk about finances, Spike." She wasn't going to put this conversation off any longer. They needed to discuss it now.

"We're fine, luv, so long as we don't spend like fools we can make our money last a good long time. And we even still have money back in London making us more money. We're fine. We aren't going to be homeless anytime soon. I've got it all covered." He was sitting at the table pouring a glass of wine.

Willow squinted at him. "Define 'a good long time' please."

He stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "At least a decade and a half by just what we have now. That's not including what our money in London is doing."

She gawked at him. Not having had any clue that they had that type of money, Willow needed to sit down. "But we have to be careful with that money for it to last that long, right?"

"Right. We won't be living it up for a while yet. But it won't be too long before we're rolling in dough. Soon I'll know exactly what to do with our money and when and we won't have to worry about a thing." Spike carded his fingers through her hair. "So you know how you always worry that we're taking other people's jobs? We don't have to do that anymore."

That was at least one thing that Willow could be relieved about. It was nice to not have that worry dancing over her head.

"So, luv, what would you like to do?" Spike asked.

"If we're going to stick around here, we should learn at least one of the languages. I know some French from school, but my dialect seems to be off. I can't understand what people are saying."

"Let's talk smaller. What do you want to do right now?" he asked.

"Take a walk?" She looked out the window. It was almost sunset but she wanted to get out of the flat.

"Then we'll take a walk. It should be a lovely night. But put something warm on. It'll be cold."

Willow got her sweater and put it on over her dress and they left the flat just the way it was.

XxXx

It was a cool night especially this high up in altitude but they watched the sun set and moon and stars come out in all their glory.

"It's nice here," Willow said. "The stars are amazing. Look at all of them. There's barely any space between them."

Spike looked up at the sky and put an arm around his wife, "Yeah."

"The stars are amazing," said Angelus from behind them.

"They speak to me," Drusilla added as Spike and Willow turned to face them.

Darla laughed. "They don't look happy to see us."

There was no way Spike and Willow could run. Willow was only human and would be caught very easily. And it was nowhere near dawn, so they were stuck.

Spike put himself between the trio of vampires and Willow even though there was no way for them to kill her, he still felt the need to protect Willow, especially from Angelus. He was calculating the odds of getting back to their flat and waiting out the sun, but the odds were slim.

"I believe I was asking a question before you rudely interrupted me last time," Angelus said smoothly while he and Darla moved so that Willow and Spike were surrounded. "Tell me about this human slave thing."

Thinking quickly Spike said, "Why don't we go back to our flat and sit and explain it to you. It's all rather in depth." He was hoping to get he and Willow in the door before the trio of vampires asked for an invitation from Willow, the only person capable of inviting them into the flat.


	10. Outline

Chapter 10: It seemed that no matter where they went if they stayed for any length of time Angelus and co. found them. It was only their ability to travel during the day that kept them ahead of their stalkers for any length of time. Until finally, in Germany Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla caught up to them quicker than even they could have predicted, hiring people to snag Willow while she was taking a walk along the river. They tried to knock her out but she came to much faster than she should have. They tied her up and delivered her to Angelus, who immediately was carting her far away by coach. Willow was in close quarters with Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla. Angelus was talking about making her family, but Drusilla giggled and said that that was impossible because to do that you'd have to be able to kill the tree and she can't die. Putting that theory to the test Angelus sucks Willow's blood without a care of whether or not he hurt her. Not only didn't she not die but the bite wound closed up almost immediately. This gave Angelus ideas. He could punish her very harshly indeed for having run from him for so long. He didn't like having to chase his supper. But before he got to that he started asking her all kinds of questions about why it was that she couldn't die? Was it witchcraft? Was she a new kind of vampire? Was she a demon of some kind? What was it? She tasted human. Willow hoped that Spike would find her soon.

Chapter 11: Spike searches for Willow. He finds someone who knows both German and English and pays that person to help him find his girl. He's more worried about her than he can say. She might not be able to die, but she can be hurt. He was already thinking of the kinds of things that a sicko like Angelus would do to her once he discovered her capacity to heal. He could just see her head cut off and in a box, the nerve endings in unstopping pain until they are reattached. Spike shudders at the thought. There were so many things Angelus could do to her.

Angelus takes Willow to Holland where he immediately finds a house to keep her in. They are in the basement and Darla and Drusilla laugh as they leave her alone with him. He starts to torture her, beginning with sticking needles in her eyes. Needle after needle after needle.

Chapter 12: Spike to the rescue. Spike hires some people to help him knowing full well that not all of them will make it and he rescues Willow. This should be a heavy action scene. Angelus should get wounded. But disaster strikes and Darla is killed. The timeline is forever altered. (Ripple effect of this Darla was the one who captured the gypsy girl for Angelus to feed off of and without that Angel never gets his soul.) Willow and Spike are horrified and not knowing what else they can possibly do they run.

Rather than taking transits like they have in the past, they ride by horseback all the way to Romania. They have to learn that curse.

Chapter 13: Willow is traumatized. She has nightmares about losing her eyes and going blind. She dreams about so much more that Angelus could have done to her. She dreams about everything that he did do to her. Every cut is relived. Every break. It is all Spike can do to hold onto her at night. He tries to sooth her through it but she doesn't seem to be getting over it. Just because the wounds don't last doesn't mean they don't hurt. And when she was found her hands were hanging from the wall seven feet away from her. She was having nightmares about someone hacking her to bits and putting her in boxes forever. Eternal pain. It was really starting to freak Spike out. He didn't know what to do. Slowly the nightmares happen with less frequency and they sort of get on with their lives and their search for the curse. Willow depends on Spike's ability to always be there for her even if he doesn't always know what to say.

Chapter 14: 1880 London England – They are risking a lot by coming back here but they are trying to see if the timeline is at all the same. Are Angelus and Drusilla around? Does William get turned? Or did Darla's death alter the timeline irrevocably. Are they going to have to find some other way to turn William into a vampire and get him travelling with Angelus and Drusilla? Is that even possible? They are in luck... Angelus and Drusilla are in London. They are traveling with a vampire that Angelus made named Katrina. They are careful to stay downwind of the three and they can tell that Katrina and Drusilla don't get along very well. Their luck holds and Drusilla indeed does turn William into a vampire. Willow and Spike hope for the best for Drusilla and William, William in particular because he now smells like Spike and they hope that Angelus doesn't kill him on the spot for that crime alone.

Chapter 15: Willow and Spike return to gypsy life hoping to learn the secret of the curse or at least be in a position to convince someone to curse Angelus by the time it rolls around that he's supposed to be cursed. They fit in well with the gypsies even though they look wildly out of place. Spike moves through the crowd picking pockets. And while he's doing that Willow entertains said crowd by dancing while one of the Roma play the guitar and sings. Sometimes she dances out an act with Spike that tells a story, but that is rare. She wonders where her stage fright went. It disappeared somewhere along the path of learning the dances to begin with. They travel all over Eastern Europe, learning just of enough of the different languages to get by. But they always end up back in Romania in the middle of the summer for the big festival where the different gypsy tribes come together and celebrate. It is then that Spike and Willow make their most overt attempts at finding out the curse. Because it may not be the tribe they are with that knows it. It might be another one and it's helpful to get the word out that they are looking.

Chapter 16: Varna, Bulgaria 1896 – They go to the wrong city or maybe the right city and Willow runs into Angelus while she is with one of the children. The child gets away, but Willow doesn't though not due to lack of effort. She almost gets away a couple of times. The gypsies come through by cursing Angelus with the same curse as last time or the first time or whatever. They curse him. Willow sees that he is in pain and doesn't feel bad for him in the slightest. She remembers well the pain he put her through. She leaves him gasping in pain. Spike is relieved that Willow is okay. So long as she is okay everything is right in his world.

Chapter 17: 1925 New York – Willow and Spike are at a speak easy pretending to be people they aren't. They act like they are just normal kids of the time and are meeting for the very first time. It is all an act they like to play. Sometimes it lasts for days before Willow caves to Spike's charms and goes home with him. By then he's always famished and ready to devour her. He never snacks on anyone else though... he always waits for his Willow. But this time their fun is cut short by the speak easy being raided and shot up by rival gangsters. Willow gets shot and while the wound closes really fast the bullet is lodged in her heart and it hurts every time the organ beats. She's in great pain. The down side of this kind of immortality. Because she heals so fast Spike has to get creative about how he gets the bullet out of her chest and the whole time she's in severe pain. When it is over and Willow is fine again Spike makes a point of going and finding the gangsters that shot his girl and kills them. Willow isn't happy about that and they get into a huge fight over it. When Willow walks out on him he worries that he may have lost her forever and he doesn't react well to that. He searches for her for days and doesn't find her. He makes a point of not feeding off anyone because he doesn't want to make matters worse. When he gets really hungry and can't wait anymore he finds a stray dog and drains it dry. After another day Willow finds him. She hasn't forgiven him but she knows that he needs her to feed so she's back.

Chapter 18: They checked in on Angel from time to time to see how he was fairing. Mostly he brooded. They checked in on the other Spike and Dru as well. They seemed smitten with one another. They even looked in on little Willow a couple of times while she was growing up. And Willow and Spike never spoke to any of them. Not until 1997 when they went to Sunnydale to head off Angel. Willow wanted to warn him that the Willow he was going to encounter there was not really her. She told him that if she found out that he pursued her in any fashion, she would come back and stake him for it. Spike added a "Leave her the hell alone" for good measure and then they left. There was nothing else they could do. At this point the relationship seems to be back on solid ground.

Chapter 19: Out of curiosity they came back a little while later to see if the other Spike and Dru showed up and they did. But it looked like Angelus wasn't making a second appearance. It turned out that Angel and Buffy never got together so Spike and Dru were just making Sunnydale their party town. Willow and Spike debated over whether or not to interfere. They weren't sure what they could do to get things back on track here. Without Angelus opening Acathala Spike and Dru wouldn't have left Sunnydale. Would they eventually get staked by Buffy? How badly did this alter the timeline? They weren't sure. In the end Spike decided to warn Spike and Dru off. Told them that if they liked their bodies to not be ash they would leave town. It was the best he could do. The fact that Spike and Dru didn't listen to him wasn't his fault. The fact that they now resided as dust on the floor of the warehouse because Buffy got to them stung him for about a week. Willow visited Miss Calendar and told her that translating the curse would be a good idea and that handing the translation down to whoever was keeping tabs of Angel over the years would probably be a good idea. She told her about the happiness clause in the curse just to be sure that she did it.

Chapter 20: Spike and Willow get into another fight. This time it is over Spike killing again now that they've caught up with time. He figures that now he isn't interfering with history, he should be able to do what he wants. Willow argues that they are still outside of history... they are still under the effects of the spell and have no right doing anything that would interfere with anything. They should continue just as they have been. It's worked for the last 245 years. Why change now? Spike argues that he wants variety and while Willow may be fillet mignon sometimes he just craved a cheeseburger. Willow argues that that is only a good argument to him and that he should be happy with what he has. Willow does the only thing she can think of to try and keep him towing the line. She threatens to leave him if he starts killing again. It works he stays with her because by now he can't imagine his life without her.

Chapter 21: The Willow from 1999 does a spell that backfires and brings the Willow that has been living for over two hundred years directly to her. Willow from 1999 is completely confused while immortal Willow instantly focuses on how she can get away. This is where immortal Willow comes face to face with her old friends and herself. There are some differences though that she didn't expect. Like they don't even know who Oz is and Willow and Xander end up dating after Cordelia wouldn't take him back. Immortal Willow does an internet search for Daniel Osbourne and finds seven in America. The gang is trying to ask her questions while she is hacking DMVs to look at pictures to see if Oz exists somewhere that isn't Sunnydale. No luck. It looks like Oz doesn't exist at all. She's heartbroken. She just wants to get out of there but she's got a problem, she was lounging around the apartment she was sharing with Spike when Willow zapped her there. She doesn't have any ID or money on her. She calls Spike's cell phone only to find out that he's already on his way. While she's waiting for Spike to show up, Willow offers to share her clothes with her and Giles lets her stay at his house. She neglects to tell them that the husband she's waiting for is Spike so when he shows up the gang is more than surprised because for them Spike is dead as in dust. Buffy tries to stake him only to find that heals faster than anything she's ever seen. Willow explains that while yes, Spike is the reason she was ripped out of her time to begin with, they've been if nothing else dependent on each other the entire time and she forgave him a long time ago. She also explains that they have to leave because they are interfering with how things ought to be just by being there. For immortal Willow this is a surreal experience. She never thought she'd be interacting with these people again. And while she missed them... they of course didn't miss her. She's just an anomaly. This gets her down. Spike reminds her that she's 263 years old and has nothing in common with them anymore and while she agrees with that, it still hurts to have had to deal with them.

Chapter 22: Spike and Willow decided that they wouldn't interfere again. Though they did check in on Willow from time to time over the years never letting her see them. It seemed like she lived a rather full life. Angel apparently took her at her word and left her alone. Though Willow's life because of Buffy was rather short-lived. She died at 32 in a magical duel with a wizard who was trying to end the world. She lost but Willow was able to kill him without much trouble. Buffy and Xander believed that they killed each other. Let them believe that. Spike and Willow were happy together. They spent most of their time reading prophecies about the world ending so they could stop those, because they had one hell of a vested interest in keeping the world safe.

Epilogue: 5098 Mars – Willow and Spike didn't have to hop from city to city anymore to avoid people noticing the fact they don't age. Science was advanced enough that most people decided when they would stop the aging process. Willow and Spike to others looked old, but not overly so. Willow less than Spike. They were thrilled to still be together after 3345 years. It was touch and go a couple of times. They had some arguments that made wars look tame, but they always ended up together in the end. After all in the end all they had was each other. They only kept the ingredients to do the second half of the spell as a safe guard for the end of the universe, but they were still hoping technology would advance enough that they would be able to hop to another universe in that eventuality. Willow was still wearing the ring that Spike put on her finger when they started their trip.


End file.
